Resolution
by Demahsa-Madark Writer
Summary: AMERICAN IDOL. KRADISON/KRADAM friendship. Tour fic. Adam and Kris have a huge fight, Kris is having marriage problems, and someone unfairly puts blame on Adam for something bad. When there is a terrible accident, can the family ever completely heal?
1. PART 1

Title: Resolution

Genre: Angst/Drama

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Katy is scared, and makes Kris chose between her and Adam. There is a huge rift carved in both relationships, and Kris is torn between his wife and his best friend. When the unthinkable happens - how will he cope?

Notes:

All right, so I wrote this awhile back. I'm going back and editing it to make it better and posting here. Some things you should know...

I LOVE SARVER!!! He was originally the meanie in this story, but after I realized how much I love him, I had to change it. Danny Gokey is now the antagonist, and no, I don't hate Danny as much as this story would imply, but I don't like him all that much. I don't actually think he's anything like the way he's portrayed in this.

* * *

Adam's eyes had gone dark, and his voice was uncharacteristically low, laced with anger. "You're telling me... you don't want to be around me anymore?"

Kris scrubbed at his face desperately, hating the look of utter disbelief and betrayal etched on his friend's face in place of the usual cheeky grin and eyes glowing bright with mischief. "It's not that... it's just... m-m-me and Katy... we've grown apart... and it's been hard, so hard... she t-thinks, she thinks... it's well, because of you..."

His eyes flashed dangerously, and Kris added, "Probably unfairly... and she's making me choose... she's my wife, Adam... I-I... fuck, I can't... it's not that I think she's right, it's that I'm scared to lose her - I can't lose her."

Adam's stormy eyes were trained elsewhere. "Let me get this straight, Kristopher." A shiver crawled up and down Kris' spine. "We can't be friends anymore because your wife is jealous of how close we are... you still want to be friends with me, but you are too afraid to test her further, so you can't?" He laughed listlessly. "Katy thinks our friendship is jeopardizing your marriage? What the fuck, Kris? Are you serious?"

Kris sighed, realizing how stupid it all was. "It's not so much that - it's just been hard for us... after being apart so long, and just been married... we've lost our sparks, and she sees how I am when I spend time with you, and she is jealous... she wants that back, Adam. It's not that she blames you..."

"It's just that... well, she blames me." Adam snapped. "Don't sidestep me, Kris. I get it. She's your wife. You choose her. Forgive me for thinking our relationship actually meant something... my mistake. It won't happen again. Give Katy all my love."

And he stalked away, leaving Kris alone. Tears sprung into his eyes, and he didn't bother hiding them. How had it come to this? He knew over the course of the competition that his relationship with Katy was suffering, and in conjunction with that, his with Adam had been blossoming dramatically. For a moment, he felt a bolt of not quite hatred, but annoyed frustration for Katy - for making him do this... for causing that look to come across Adam's face, and for making him rip his heart into pieces.

His fingers slipped clumsily as he dialed her number, and she picked up after one ring. "So... did you talk to him?"

He sniffled, wincing. "Yes. I told him. Katy... why? Why did you make me do that?"

"Kris, do you love me, or not?" She demanded, her voice suddenly tinged with a venom unlike Kris had ever heard.

"Of course I do... Katy, what kind of question is that?" Salty moisture poured onto his phone as he pressed it to his cheek, begging with her. "But I love Adam too - he's my best friend! How could you make me choose?! Don't you love me, Katy? Don't you care about how much this fucking hurts me?!!"

"Don't even go there." She murmured bitterly. "Kris, I can see how close you two are, but what about us? We all make sacrifices, Kris. Welcome to marriage. I'm your wife. I had to deal with you... being in that competition, I had to be alone, had to go through watching us slowly lose what we had... and that hurt... but I did it because I love you..."

"You said you wanted me to! You supported me, Katy! And you know I'm sorry for not being able to be with you all that time... don't throw that in my face..." Kris was tired, so tired.

"But the show's over, Kris! And still, even before this tour, you spent more time with him than me... you never smiled around me, we never talked... American Idol ruined us! You know we're losing it, and he just keeps getting closer to you... I just want you back... Kris... that's all." She was borderline hysterical.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, head pounding. "Katy, I love you... I miss what we had, and I'm sorry we lost it... but this is wrong."

"What's wrong..." She whispered, "...is that you seem to value..." She paused, and Kris drew in a sharp breath. "I mean... you value Adam more than me."

He clenched his free hand into a fist, knuckles going white. "That's not true! Katy... we've got problems... we'll work them out, but do I really have to destroy the... one of the best things that ever happened to me?"

"I'm the best thing that ever happened to you. Your friendship with him... how could you even compare the two things?" Her voice had an edge of horror in it. "What has happened to you? What's he done to you? I... I-I... you know I never completely approved of his lifestyle... I tried to l-look past that, but I can't anymore! You'd rather spend time with him than me... and did you realize that there's fans out there now... they see you two as a... as a c-c-couple? You and... he's.... I just...." She took a breath, seeming to realize how panicky her tone had gone. Softening, she finished, "Please, Kris. Do this for me. For us..." He heard tiny sobs on the other end. "I love you."

"Fuck..." he breathed. "Katy... I'm sorry; this is such a mess... I don't want to lose you or Adam... but..." His eyes traveled to the closed door of the bus, which Adam had slammed in his hasty departure. "It's too late to apologize..." He laughed insincerely; a wet, teary laugh lodging deep in his throat.

"Kris... this needs to happen. Or we're over, and you know it." Katy told him.

"Maybe we're over already." Kris found himself saying, and he snapped his phone shut. Rubbing his temples, he threw himself unto the bottom bunk of the bed, tears still coursing down his cheeks. He ignored the rings of his phone for the next fifteen minutes.

* * *

Everyone quickly noticed the cold chill that had settled between Kris and Adam, even Scott, who, unlike the others, could not see the empty look Kris sent Adam's back, and how Adam refused to let his eyes meet Kris'. Christian, their bus driver, even noticed the space suddenly put between them. There was a strange cautiousness that everyone began to take around them, speaking gently and tentatively.

"Adam..." Allison piped up softly, one night after one of the shows. "Wanna play cards with me and Lil?" She gestured to the deck Lil was shuffling. The two girls were hanging out with the guys for the night.

"No... thank you, Allie." Adam's voice was hoarse. "I think I'm going to bed. Goodnight, you two." And he moved across the room, stepping over Kris' legs and retreating.

The fact that Kris' presence on the couch in the hotel room had gone ignored by Adam was not lost on Allison and Lil. They looked at Kris for a moment, and Kris swallowed hard, blinking back tears. The last thing he needed was for them to see him cry over this.

Allison shook her head, then sighed, before relaxing and putting on a fake grin. "How about you, Kris?"

Kris slid slowly off the couch, face blank. "Um, ok... sure."

It wasn't like he had anything else to do, and following Adam was certainly not an option. He grudgingly joined their game, forcing half-hearted chuckles at the banter.

But nothing could distract him from the ache in his heart.

* * *

"Adam..." He croaked, reaching out and snagging one of the sleeves of Adam's jacket, the black leather nearly slipping through his fingers. He held firm, but his voice was shaky. "P-please... let's talk... I need..."

Adam took a breath, then pointedly wrenched his arm from Kris' grip, the glare on his face like daggers. "Talk?!" He spat incredulously. "I thought that was forbidden?"

"Adam..." Kris hated how pathetic he sounded; his voice was so tiny and squeaky. "Please... I... I haven't talked to Katy since that night... I couldn't." The confession left Kris searching Adam's eyes for any sort of hope.

Adam exhaled slowly through his nostrils, dramatically showing his exasperation. "You haven't talked to me, either. What's your point?"

"Don't be ridiculous..." He replied, voice cracking painfully. "You haven't exactly been receptive to me even TRYING to talk to you."

"I have to go rehearse." Adam said flatly. The Idols had come for a visit to this tour stop's arena, to rehearse their vocals for the stage show that night.

"Adam... please." Kris begged. "I've been thinking about me and her... and well, everything... and you..." He trailed off, gulping.

"I'm listening." Was Adam's answer, in harsh monotone.

"I told her it was wrong. Wrong to make me choose. Wrong to do that to you." The words tumbled out of his mouth.

Adam's eyes softened, but his muscles in his jaw bunched. "And what did she say?"

He toed the carpet awkwardly. "Well... that I needed to make sacrifices. That it was for the good of the marriage..."

Adam snorted, a half gasp of fake laughter. "I'm a threat, in other words. Why, Kris... why?"

"I love her." The weight of the three words was suddenly apparent to him and he was forced to pause. His wedding band burned on his finger. "If you don't understand anything else about this entire situation... I know you'll understand that."

"She's your wife." Adam said blankly. "Of course you love her. But I thought I was your friend... does that not matter?"

"Of course it does..." Kris started.

"No... obviously it doesn't. Not enough anyway. Not if you were willing to let Katy... sweet, adorable, beautiful Katy, who supposedly loves you..."

Red swam before Kris' eyes and before his brain could fully register what he was doing, he swung. His fist connected with Adam's chin, his knuckles dragging across the tense line of his jaw. Adam stumbled back a bit, and rose a hand to his face.

A look of pure shock briefly overtook his facial features, and then his eyes darkened, and a look Kris had never seen before manifested itself.

"How dare you?" Kris managed to growl, defensive. "Katy loves me! You have absolutely no right to suggest otherwise!"

When Adam spoke, his voice was throaty and full of rage. "If she really loved you, she wouldn't do this to you, she wouldn't, Kris. Deny it all you fucking want, but she wouldn't make you decide... you're right, it's wrong. But that's not all that's wrong here." He rose to his full height and without another word, stepped around Kris to one of the rehearsal rooms.

He promptly opened the door, briskly entered, and slammed it shut.

He didn't come out right away when they were done rehearsing. All of the crew, vocal instructors, and producers had exited. Kris shuffled dejectedly out of his practice booth to find Allison and Danny standing outside the door Adam had disappeared behind.

The seventeen year-old had a tired, sad look on her face as she rapped her knuckles against the door. "Adam... come on, rehearsal's over... please, just come out of there."

She saw Kris then, and Adam's muffled voice shouted back. "No... go away! Leave me the fuck alone!" Allison winced at the expletive and the cruel tone Adam had used with her. She bit her lip, and stared at Kris, who had frozen on the spot, neck bristling.

A beat.

"Damn, Allen... what did you do to him?" Danny didn't sound very concerned, just curious.

Kris didn't know how to respond. "I..."

Silence took over the hall of the arena. Allison then let her voice fall into a soothing, careful volume. "Adam... honey, what's wrong? What happened?"

"Why don't you ask the golden Idol...?!" Kris tensed at Adam's response, cringing. Allison looked at him again, eyes sympathetic, but suspicion written in the lines of her frown.

"You guys used to be practically glued at the hip. What the hell happened?" She demanded abruptly. "Why don't you even talk anymore?"

"Katy doesn't want us to." Kris replied, without even realizing.

Allison was instantly confused. "Huh?"

Danny's face, however, lit with recognition. He leaned over to Kris, voice low. "Is she concerned about her Bible-toting husband hanging out with a... well, you know? One of them?"

Allison's eyes went wide and she cast a look to him, as if saying I can't believe you'd say that with her eyes.

Kris, however, could barely identify the protective anger that boiled in him at Danny's statement before the door creaked open, and Adam appeared.

He didn't make eye contact with any of them, merely huffed, "Please, don't let one of them keep you waiting. I'm fine, don't worry about me."

And he walked away, leaving all three of the others stunned. His stride was quick, but not too fast for them not to catch a glimpse of the slight, puffy swell of dark blue under his mouth, and the smeared eyeliner along the side of his cheek.

Allison let out a shallow, barely audible gasp, and guilt pillowed deep in Kris' gut. Her questioning gaze on him made the shame fester and he let it flood him as he looked at the floor.

What was I thinking? How could I have done that? What the fuck is wrong with me? I hit him! I fucking hit Adam!

Kris felt like letting his own jaw drop in shock, as he suddenly understood the magnitude of his actions. Danny was quiet, but not shaken by the encounter.

Finally, the young girl cleared her throat, catching Kris' brown, moisture-filled eyes. "I... I'm going to go make sure he's okay."

She hastened in the direction Adam went, presumably back to the bus.

Gokey put a hand on Kris' shoulder, a toothless grin on his face. "It'll be okay, Allen. Don't let it bother you... I think you made the right call."

Somehow, Kris didn't find that very reassuring.

* * *

He covered it with makeup. Allison, Danny, and Kris were the only ones who knew it was even there, and nothing was said about it. Adam kept quiet, around everyone, and those who had no inkling as to what had occurred treated him with caution and confusion.

Kris hated himself for the way Adam would avoid even sitting in the same area of the bus with him.

During the shows, when it came time for their group song, he got some semblance of their friendship, of old times, but then again... Adam had always been a great actor.

Masks went up with the lights, smiles plastered on with the makeup, and the audience didn't notice a thing. He didn't know what to do. He understood his friend's anger, even justified it.

I'm such a fucking jerk... he thought once, as he snuck sideways glances at Adam. He had fallen asleep on the couch with his iPod earphones in, and he looked more peaceful than Kris could recall seeing him in a long time. He pretended not to look, but in-between disjointed conversation with Scott, Megan, and Matt, he often peeked at Adam during his slumber, his eyes tracing the spot where his fist had connected.

Yeah, nice going, Kris. He told himself. Hey Adam, let's talk about this, oh... by the way, try not to run into my fist with your face.

And the rush of complex emotion was overwhelming to him.

Katy called him, and he answered his phone, later regretting it each time. They had several forced, pretend-cheerful conversations, until the lump rising in Kris' throat cut off speech and he was forced to stop. Sometimes, several hot tears would slip down his cheeks when he was alone. In the presence of the others, he tried to act normal, but Adam's presence, or lack thereof, always provoked some type of morose reaction from him.

"It's my turn to pick dinner!" Allison's cry sounded through the bus as they tromped in after one show. She was excited. Many groans and yawns were her response, and she sighed. "I'm hungrrrrryyy." The whine betrayed her age.

The corners of Adam's lips twitched, and he sighed. "I'll go with you, Allie-Cat." He relented, wrapping an arm around her. "I'm starved too." Kris couldn't help but feel a pang at this, wishing that his friend would consider draping his arm across his own shoulders.

Enthusiasm sent pink climbing into her cheeks, and she burst into a grin. "Yes! I got one taker! Sarver?"

"Too tired. Sorry, Allison." He muttered, flopping down onto the couch. One by one, the rest of their companions disappeared, uttering various excuses, until Kris was left there, standing alone.

Allison's eyes filled with hope, and he felt his muscles tense as Adam gave him a blank look. "Krissy?" She pleaded. "Please? Pwetty pwease, for me?" She dared a split-second glance between the two men before staring pleadingly at Kris.

"I...uh..." He stammered. "I'm not all that hungry..."

Crestfallen, Allison stared her red-heeled boots. "Aw..."

"... okay, I'll tag along." Wait, what am I saying?

Disbelief and joy crossed the girl's face and she whooped. "Yum! Awesome!"

Adam said nothing. Kris remembered to breathe.

* * *

It was obvious to Kris that Adam also did not want dinner to be awkward, for Allison's sake. Still, despite their efforts, there were no smiles or laughs shared between them, and they only pretended not to be agitated for her benefit. Kris felt a little antsy, not really knowing how to act.

They were sitting at a circular table, so there was no way Adam could avoid sitting by him. In fact, Adam didn't even angle his body away from Kris or permanently turn his gaze upon Allison. It was just the opposite, and Kris found that it hurt just as much. When Adam looked at him, it was with no emotion or recognition whatsoever. He smiled and exchanged jokes with Allie, and looked rather calm and relaxed the entire night.

Kris was baffled, and at a loss for how to behave in such a situation, so he merely put on a grin for her, and tried not to be affected by Adam's unreadable facial expression. The event was mostly uneventful until he found himself watching Adam and Allie after a particular joking insult was hurled. Adam wore a false look of offense, gasping.

He admonished the redhead, and proceeded to playfully punch her shoulder. She giggled, but Kris couldn't help but stare at Adam's balled fist. He was struck with a sudden thought. Why didn't he hit me back? He's bigger than me, he could've knocked my lights out... why didn't he? The unspoken inquiry rang in his mind and he sat, listening to his heart pound in his ears.

"...Kris?" Allison was asking him something. "Kris, you want a refill on that?"

Jumping out of his reverie, he shook his head, fingering his half-drained glass of beer. It tasted bitter and lukewarm in his mouth, and he wanted to spit out each sip, but he downed it anyway, if only to have something to do at the table.

"Wow..." Allison laughed, and Adam looked at him, that clean-slate face burning him.

"I'm good. I forgot I had something, actually." Kris explained tersely. "I don't need anything else." Allison was silent for a moment, before she seemed to notice Adam's deadpanned expression.

She chewed her bottom lip, then looking at Kris who forced an apologetic smile.

"I...uh..." He fumbled for something to say. "Slow Ride sounded really good tonight..."

Relieved, Allie perked up immediately. "Yeah! We had so much fun! Adam, you were especially wicked." She realized the pun and chuckled.

Adam laughed; that same laugh Kris loved to hear; whole and genuine. But his smile differed in that it was lackluster and only half-assured. "You weren't so bad yourself, sugar... I had to up my game to sing beside you."

She blushed and waved a hand dismissively. "And Kris... likewise to you, Heartless was incredible, probably one of the best times I have heard out of you!"

Kris swallowed, gathered his resolve, and sent Adam a hard, meaningful look. "Well, I really sang it from the heart tonight. It's been rough lately, and I put all of that into the performance."

Allison flashed him an all-knowing grin, then reached over and squeezed his arm. "Well, it was amazing. And so was 'Ain't No Sunshine', but that always sounds hot." She giggled. "'Cause you sing it for Katy..." She waggled a teasing finger.

Adam visibly flinched at the name, and Allie's eyes went wide, as she realized that she'd unknowingly said something wrong.

"Actually..." Kris stared at the ring left by the bottom of his cup on the wooden table. "I didn't sing it for her tonight." He managed to grasp Allison's hand and clench it reassuringly, but couldn't move his eyes to Adam. He felt Adam's burning gaze however, and he unconsciously twiddled his thumbs, and shifted his weight in the chair.

Allison smiled sympathetically, and opened her mouth to apologize, but he stopped her. "No, it's ok. I just..."

"Who'd you sing it for, then?"

Kris rounded on Adam, astonished. His friend was twirling his straw nonchalantly in his glass, eyeing him with a hint of darkness in the depths of his eyes. Allison tried to focus elsewhere, and Kris remained silent for a moment, stunned that Adam had spoken to him at last. He wanted to answer, but his lips wouldn't move.

Frustration flooded his senses. You, Adam! I sang it for you! His mind, screamed, but no audible reply was formed.

"That's what I thought." Adam continued, his voice outwardly teasing. But his eyes were murky and pooled with emotion. He shook his head and smiled oddly. "You love her. Of course you sang it for her. She's very important to you."

The monotone, the dry, accepting, yet heartbroken undertones of Adam's voice crawled under Kris' ribcage and seized his heart. He trembled a bit as he traced the outline of his ring with his index finger, feeling a twist of sorrow twinge in his chest. He stared forlornly at Adam, who, ever the actor, wore that same vacant mask he'd been wearing all evening.

"Maybe we should get going." Allison suggested, looking lost.

"Yeah, we've done all we need here." Adam agreed, suddenly rising. "Let's go."

Kris jumped up onto numbed legs and stumbled away from the table, repressing the urge to throw his empty glass at the wall. He pulled a crinkled bill out of his wallet to leave as a tip, and followed after the other two meekly.

It was dark outside and the sidewalk was damp. The rain was falling, but in the form of an eerie mist. He walked several paces behind Adam and Allison, who were giggling over makeup dripping down their faces in the drizzle.

With a sigh, he climbed into the car. All three of them squeezed in the back, and Adam was in the middle. His leg was pushed against Adam's and he longed to scoot away, feeling the uncomfortable heat between them.

Adam either didn't notice, or tried not to care (most likely the latter). Kris' phone went off, and he had to grope awkwardly in the darkness, arm brushing Adam's to reach his pocket. The screen was lit up with the name "KATY".

Dully, he was aware that his hand flipped the phone open and he spoke, "Hello?"

Katy was talking. His wife, his lovely Katy was talking, but Kris heard none of that. All he heard was Adam's breathing, coinciding with the gentle rise and fall he felt through the fabric that was pressed against him.

"Kris? Kris, are you there? Honey...?!!" There was a lot of static and her voice was muffled.

Then, it seemed so fast, but they were back at the bus. Allison was opening the door and the other two occupants were clambering out of the car into the rain, which was picking up in fervor.

"...Kris???" Katy called.

"Kris." Adam's voice was low and steady, and a hand gesture, a flash of black-polished nails motioned to him that he should step out.

He slowly closed his phone, pulling himself out of the car next to them. It rang again, but he ignored it, splashing up to the bus and shivering as he entered the doorway to the vehicle. Allison quickly bid them goodnight, and he couldn't help but think that it was her urgent desire to get away from the awkward air between the other two that made her so eager.

* * *

He couldn't fall asleep. He tossed and turned and broke into a cold sweat. Hours ticked by agonizingly. He felt miserable and alone. Hearing a slight creak outside the bunk area, Kris was overcome by something identifiable, and he sprang up, tripping over his sheets.

After hastily disentangling himself from the starchy fabric, he blindly made his way out of the room and into the dimly lit main area of the bus. The clock read 3:18 AM.

Adam's silhouette was dark against the outline of the couch, and his face was eerily lit by the blue of his laptop. He looked up, startled at Kris' entry, and Kris couldn't help but think of Mad World. The blue rays tinting Adam's face, the momentary look of sadness as he saw who had joined him.

Adam set his jaw and stared at Kris, who couldn't help but notice the uncovered spot on his chin, the grayish-blue blemish stark against Adam's pale skin.

"I...uh..." He managed to speak. "Couldn't sleep."

Kris thought he was dreaming, but for an instant, he swore he saw a smirk on Adam's face. But then, it was back to unreadable, dull, and unforgiving.

Adam half-nodded, then turned his attention back to the computer screen. Heart dropping into the pit of his stomach, Kris winced at the silence.

"Reviews of tonight's show." Adam suddenly spoke, indicating the laptop. "All good..." And then his eyes were on Kris again.

Kris took a single step forward, pulse quickening. "Oh?" He tried not to sound so encouraged by the mere fact that he was being spoken to.

"Allie was right, you know." Adam sounded unbelievably tired and worn all of a sudden, his voice was hoarse and airy. "You were right on the mark tonight with Ain't No Sunshine. It was pretty damn flawless."

"I... I sang it for you. I was thinking of you when I sang it. That's why it was so good... I poured all my feelings into it."

Adam exhaled, and Kris waited.

"No, you didn't. You didn't sing it for me." Rough, resolute words were the reply.

And because it was the absolute worst moment for it, his phone went off; vibrating loudly against the table he flung it on before bed.

"Yes, I did... Adam, I..."

"Answer your phone."

"Adam..."

"Answer it." Adam's voice climbed in volume and intensity, and Kris heard the fury coming through. Unfeelingly, his fingers closed around the outer shell of his cell phone.

"You weren't thinking of me when you sang that song... just like you weren't thinking of me when you basically told me you wanted me the hell out of your life and that I was fucking up your marriage!" Adam exclaimed heatedly and pushed the laptop from his legs and stood. "And you certainly weren't thinking about me when you decided to punch me in the face, were you? You were thinking of Katy, Kris. You've chosen... okay? I get it. You chose Katy, she's your wife, you love her... I'm just some queer you met along the way to fame that you can throw under the bus. Believe me; I understand what's going on here. So you've made your choice, and that's that! But don't fucking lie to me about it: tell me you're sorry, and that you fucking sang that song while thinking of me, because I know damn well you didn't!"

"Adam..." Kris could scarcely put two thoughts together. His phone went off again.

"For all I know, you were never thinking of me..." Adam trailed off. "I don't know why I was so delusional to think we were so close. But the truth's out and I've accepted it. You're not sorry. This is what you want. Now quit fucking around and pick up the damn phone."

"I-I.... you... it's..." The world was spinning, lights fading.

"Kris..." Adam sighed slowly, pain etched on his face. "Don't do this, all right? It's Katy. Take the call."

The look on Adam's face was dangerous and unknown. Kris swallowed, and lifted his hand. He slowly opened the phone and pressed it to his cheek. "Katy?" He asked; voice soft and hoarse, eyes still on Adam.

WHAT AM I DOING?!! His mind screamed. No! Fuck, why did I...?

"Kris... I was so worried; I guess there's a huge storm where you are... I figured that's why the signal was bad and I lost you the first time... honey..." More static.

Not hearing her, he watched Adam sink slowly back onto the couch, face crumpled. His eyes watered and he looked up at Kris, not ashamed of the teary haze that began to cascade down his freckled cheeks. His mouth was a grim, thin line, and his fingers fiddled aimlessly with the threads of the throw blanket beside him.

"That's what I thought..." He whispered brokenly, a repeated line from earlier at the restaurant, but this time, all theatrics and all masks seemed to be washed away in the rain. Pure, raw, vulnerable and wounded Adam looked at him for one painful second before standing, inhaling sharply through his nose. "I think I'll go talk to Christian. I bet he needs a friend." He said bitterly, and without another word or glance, he was gone, pulling the door to the front of the bus open, and disappearing.

Kris, alone, felt as if the world was crumbling down around him. "No..." he started after Adam, but he froze.

"Kris? Honey... who are you with? Are you... are you talking to Adam?" More rustling static.

Blankly, he replied. "No, no Katy... I'm not."

He closed his eyes, feeling tears building behind them.

"Okay... well, as I was saying..." A clap of thunder sounded, and Kris was suddenly aware of the intensity of the rainfall, the sheets of liquid that were falling atop the bus, and wind blowing against the door.

A sleepy silhouette of Allison, who had crashed on a couch in the area adjacent, appeared in the doorway. "...Kris? Is that you?"

"Allie...? Yeah, it's me. What's wrong?"

"I-I...." She looked very concerned. Her sleepy eyes blinked at him. "I thought I heard yelling... is everything okay?" The sound of the rainfall died off abruptly and an instinctual glance out the window told Kris they had entered a tunnel.

He turned to Allison, forgetting the phone he was holding. "It's okay. Really. Everything's fine."

"Are you sure?" Her eyes narrowed, but she yawned, breaking the suspicion dancing across her face in the near darkness. The glow of Adam's abandoned laptop, lying derelict on the cushions caught her eye, and she gave Kris a questioning look.

"Nothing for you to worry about..." Kris managed to continue.

"...Kris?" Katy's inquiry fell on deaf ears.

"You fought. You and Adam." Allison deduced, tucking a stray strand of her fiery hair behind her ear. "What is going on with you two?"

She sounded disappointed, and Kris felt a tear drip down his nose. Thankful for the darkness, he swiped it away.

"I- well, it's complicated." He replied sullenly. Allison's eyes fell knowingly upon the door Adam had vanished behind.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He lied.

"Kristopher Allen! This is your wife speaking...! Hello??"

"I think I'll make sure Adam is..." Her voice, full of worry, cracked a bit at the end and she grimaced, moving toward the door. A click as the lock stuck, turned, and opened.

"KRIS?!! Kris… are you there?!"

There was an ominous minute of silence, during which he heard Katy hang up on the other end. He stared unseeingly out the window at the side of the dark tunnel. The rain still muted, he cursed the terrible deathly silence.

There was a strange noise before Kris heard a muffled yell. Distantly, he discovered it came from the front.

Before he could ponder anything else, he felt the floor fall out from under him. The bus lurched to the side, loose items rolling everywhere. Kris lost his footing and careened into one of the tables, his phone skittering from his grip and sliding somewhere.

A tremor seemed to pass through the vehicle and he heard a feminine scream and a thud as Allison tumbled through the door she'd opened and into the driver's hatch.

His entire world seemed to spin as metal ripped from metal, screeching deafeningly in the darkness. More unclear sounds of panic from all directions rang in his ears as he was thrown again, tossed like a ragdoll into the side of the bus.

He smashed into the wall so hard, stars danced before his eyes, and he blacked out for a moment, then fell. He could feel his leg twist under him as he landed. Kris shook as he gasped for breath, deep, painful breaths that shuddered through him like spasms.

His heart was going to explode from his chest and the ceiling was crumbling around him. The outer walls of the bus were folding inward like a mangled accordion.

"...ALLIE!!!" A strangled yell.

".... Adam..." Soft, breathless. Pained.

"No... FUCK!!" The shout was strained and weak.

The bus rumbled again, skidding to the other side, and Kris' knuckles tightened around the handle to the outer door, legs flailing. Allison was screaming, fear rolling off the sound and penetrating through him, amplifying his own.

"...Allison!" Then a cry. "Get... ah, get out of here...!"

The door fell open and Allison tumbled out, her panicky breaths spilling from her lungs in a sporadic pattern. A cloud of smoke trailed after her. Her limp body made contact with the opposite wall, her head catching the corner of the table. She yelped, and Kris saw red.

"Allie!" Kris' voice was small under the roar of the heaving, pitching bus that was falling apart around them. He smelled charred metal. Horror flooded him as he began to realize what was happening.

"...Kris?" She whimpered, her voice fluttering. "...Kris?!!!"

"I... I'm here." He said, shaky. The bus was no longer moving. The air was thick and heavy and there was a disturbing scraping noise as the walls seemed to collapse.

"Allie, are you okay?!" He screamed as loudly as he could. The wind was loud in his ears, suddenly piercing him through the shattered glass of the windows.

"I...." She murmured, voice tight. "Adam..."

Wincing, he forced himself upward and crawled to her, cringing at the red stain on her cheek.

"Allison..." He muttered, hysterical. "Allison, answer me!"

"Kris..." Her eyes were shut. "Kris... w-what?"

"It'll be okay." He soothed her, suddenly feeling protective. "Allie, it's all right... stay with me, sweetie..."

"Adam..." She whispered; voice softer.

"No, Allie... Allie, its Kris." He coughed; the smoke thicker now.

"No... h-he... Adam... fire... and I..." She croaked; her grip on Kris' hand slackening.

"Allie, please!" He begged, knowing unconsciousness was claiming her.

"Hello?" A voice asked, and then a cough sounded. Anoop stumbled in, looking bruised and battered. His feet crunched on the shattered glass. "Are you guys okay up here? Kris... oh, fuck... Kris, is that you?"

"Anoop!" Relief filled Kris. He could barely see him through the black haze, but he saw the fear sparkling in Anoop's eyes. "... Anoop... Allison, she's hurt...!"

Anoop fell to his knees beside him, not caring about the shards of glass and metals scattered everywhere. "Shit... is she okay? ... Allie!?"

"Please, Kris..." Her eyes fluttered. "He s-saved me... I... help..."

Anoop cast a meaningful look to Kris, and Kris' eyes widened. The fear and panic in his chest exploded as he turned to look into the crackling, angry mist beyond the open, broken-at-one-hinge door to the driver's area.

"Adam was... UP THERE?!!!" Anoop shouted in alarm.

Kris, eyes watering from the smoke, nodded, his terror mirroring Anoop's. Without thinking, he shuffled and rose shakily to his feet, stepping gingerly over a broken piece of metal, and moving toward the door.

"Kris!" Anoop caught his arm. "Don't... there's got to be help on the way..." He coughed, and stared into Kris' eyes. "You could get hurt."

"... help might be too late." Kris bit his lip, and pulled away. "Adam's up there... fuck, I... I can't just not do anything..."

"Adam..." Allison mumbled, before falling slack in Anoop's arms.

"Are the others okay?" Kris asked, trying not to look at the injured girl.

"Fine... I think... " Anoop lifted the girl carefully, trying to be strong, but tears of shock were running down his face.

"Then take her, and get them the hell out of here." Kris commanded.

"But Kris..."

"Look." Kris said as loudly and resolutely as he could. "I don't know what the fuck just happened... but Adam needs me. Please... just get her... get everyone out."

"O-okay." Anoop agreed queasily, shifting Allison's weight in his arms. "Be careful."

And Kris turned toward the curtain of smoke, and didn't look back. He'd made his choice.

* * *

Reviews? :D


	2. PART 2

THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS!!! Sorry about the cliffhanger, I'm known for those...

Title: Resolution

Genre: Angst/Drama

Rating: PG-13

Summary: (part 2) Something terrible and unthinkable has happened. Kris risks his life to save Adam; will they both make it out okay? And what about Allison? Will the wounds of the fight prove stronger and deeper than any or of their cuts or bruises?

* * *

One glance at Christian told Kris that he was dead. The driver's chair had been mangled almost beyond recognition, and crushed under debris that had fallen in the chaos.

Resisting the urge to gag at the sight of his cold, lifeless stare, Kris looked away and steeled himself, coughing. His eyes stung at the smoke that had filled the driver's cabin. He only took a moment to consider it, but it looked like some sort of failing of the brakes had let the bus sideswipe the tunnel and skid into its opposite wall.

A small crackling noise revealed to Kris that the dashboard and the control instrument panel were ablaze. The angry, pop-hiss of the flames filled his ears and he gasped for breath, trying to maneuver through the mess, searching.

_A dark blue hoodie._ Darkness silhouetted against the flames. Kris stumbled toward it, his heart suddenly seized with a chill unlike any he'd ever felt.

There was a large piece of metal, a section of the bus roof, which had fallen onto the dashboard, destroying the circuitry and igniting the fire.

_The sparkle of a silver ring, a head of shock-black hair..._

He was _there._ Kris instantly tried to gather a large amount of his remaining strength and recklessly let it carry him as quickly as possible through the dilapidated interior. It hit him suddenly that Adam's body, the part that was visible to him, was not only also very limp and slack, spread flaccidly under a sizable piece of debris, but it was also surrounded by the main source of the black, dense smoke - flames.

One arm was silently stretched toward him, palm up, fingers spread. For a moment, Kris couldn't breathe, and in that instant, a warm terror filled him. He abruptly felt Adam's presence, his desperation and his need through the fading remnants of their old bond. A bond he had thought only minutes ago was shattered and broken beyond repair.

He reacted before he even had time to think, dropping to his knees and flinging out a hand toward Adam's, and the other closing around the large chunk of steel that had pinned him. Heaving a trembling breath into smoke-filled lungs, Kris started to drag the heavy trapping away, even as searing white-hot pain numbed his fingertips.

It was hot to the touch. He stubbornly clung to it anyway, grunting in exertion as he managed to move it halfway, revealing Adam's torso. He had thought it was over, thought he was about to walk away from his friend forever and leave him...

_I was wrong._ Kris thought, blindly pushing against the heated metal, struggling to free Adam's legs. _Wrong about so many things. Wrong about Katy. Wrong about him, I couldn't let him go._

With that one wordless plea for help, that hand reaching his direction, everything changed, and he was Adam again, Kris' best friend, his former roommate, his brother, even... and he couldn't let him down.

His fingers slipped clumsily and he cursed, the heat escalating in the cabin. Wincing, he pushed it again, allowing his fear and adrenaline to lend his small body the necessary strength to remove the panel completely.

Then, Adam's legs were in view, one boot twisted painfully in a way Kris doubted was natural. One last shove sent the piece of debris clanging to the floor, and Kris felt the burns on his fingers throbbing.

His eyes widened as he sensed a sudden rise in temperature, and cursed loudly as flames kindled to life on Adam's shirt. A weak cry escaped his slack mouth, and it startled Kris into action. He leaned over quickly, painstakingly wrapping an arm around him, lifting him away from the burning fire, and rolling him over, cushioning his body above the deadly heat and dousing the devouring flames with its pressure.

He didn't know where he found the strength after a fight like the one they'd just fought, or after seeing Allison's prone form in the other room. His mind was torn between recollections of the good times he had shared with the man lying before him and new, raw memories of darkness. He just couldn't let anything happen to him, and he felt overwhelmingly guilty underneath the paralyzed shock that gripped him.

Kris felt Adam losing consciousness even as he struggled to pull him away from the wreckage. Kris' quick thinking— and what he would have described as pure luck—had kept him from being too badly hurt, for by some miracle his sleeve had slipped into the stirring flame first and he had avoided it catching on any other parts of his clothing, but the pain had proven too much, even for him.

Kris could almost distinctly feel Adam fading into the black darkness that heralded unconsciousness, in the same uncanny way he had once been able to tell what Adam was thinking without having to say a word. The connection they'd forged was pulsing weakly, but still there. He allowed himself to feel a twinge of relief that the fire that had singed the back of Adam's sweatshirt had died out, and his body nearly slipped from Kris' tender hold in his moment of abstraction, sending a cascade of glass and steel shards sliding into smoky abyss.

He cursed himself as he tightened his grip again, catching him barely an inch from rolling onto the surface of the fiery hot metal. Adam, helpless, flopped limply into his arms. Seeing him like this— Adam Lambert: the fierce, bold, energetic and strong performer everyone knew him as—was nearly as frightening as the gripping horror of the whole situation.

The flames popped and exploded around Kris, as if reaching out to him, trying to suck him down into the depths of the black, misty cloud, to reclaim Adam as the prey Kris had seized away. Kris tried as hard as he could, but it seemed to take a millennia before he was able to shift Adam's weight enough for him stand a bit on shaky legs, half-lifting his friend's large frame along with him. He slipped on the crumbling floor he'd knelt on just as he had managed to settle Adam as best as he could into his arms, and he sucked in a breath in his alarm. He caught himself just in time, steadying his quaking leg muscles and taking a few strides away from the heated, coiling mass of metal that the dashboard had suddenly become. He looked anxiously down at Adam.

_Fuck_, he was a mess, on fire with heat, burning in his arms—and guilt began to blossom within Kris again. He couldn't keep the pain from twisting like a dagger in his heart, as he thought of the harsh words and heavy silences the two had exchanged recently.

Kris tried to be gentle as he took a few cautious steps toward the safest exit. He eased Adam into his hold and stumbled through the fog, but he was burned in the only places Kris could utilize to attempt to carry him.

He realized with a pang that he had no choice but to hurt him with his touch. Groaning, he staggered beneath his weight and Adam moaned as his grip tightened on his raw skin, struggling fitfully yet weakly against Kris' restraining arms.

Kris knew the pain was telling Adam that he was his enemy even now as he tried to help him, but he honestly didn't know what else he could do. Reaching out and leaning his chin toward Adam's ear, he tried to soothe his friend as a desperate, instinctive gesture; one he had no real hope would actually have an effect. A wave of disjointed, calming sentences poured from his mouth, and he mentally sighed, feeling the fruitlessness of his efforts hit him.

But somehow, miraculously, it worked. Adam sighed softly, the lines of pain and confusion that had twisted his face smoothed out, and his tense body relaxed as he accepted Kris' hold and braced against the pain. He didn't fight as his friend settled his pale face against his shoulder, the tips of some of Adam's dark locks singed and twisted as hey pillowed against Kris.

_Oh, Adam— fuck, how could this have happened?!!_ Kris' shock started to catch up with him. _How could I have turned my back on you, and... how could this have happened to you?_

His thoughts were numb and jumbled, and he took another lurching step toward the door. Kris was afraid to touch his shoulders or upper back, for the skin there nearly bubbled with heat, radiating it beneath his hands, but he knew he had to get Adam out of there, and quickly.

It was then that logical thoughts started churning in his mind, rapid and panicked. _How in the world am I going to carry him?_ Even docile and relaxed, Adam was by no means easy to carry - he was certainly not lanky or stringy in build and Kris lacked the athletic strength to cradle him like a child in his arms, as would be ideal.

He curled one hand around the nape of Adam's neck, resting his head firmly against his chest and preparing to shift his overheated body so he could half-lift, half-drag him to safety. Kris was completely unprepared, however, for his quiet whimper, and the turning of his head into the hollow of his shoulder.

He gasped quietly as he heaved another step, and Adam's hand, the one that had reached desperately toward him minutes earlier, clenched in the rough, singed cloth of his shirt. His other arm dangled uselessly at his side, the fabric melted into a twisted hunk of misshapen remnants by the flames.

Kris was even more unprepared for Adam's soft, delirious moan of "_Kris_..." as he turned his face inwards, or for the sound of his voice, cracked and deepened by the searing of his throat and lungs by the fire-heated air. It wavered and broke as he struggled to speak. "Kris... Allison—_please_—"

"I got her, Adam..." Tears pooled in Kris' eyes as he continued on, motivated even more. "We got her."

An exhale of shaky breath that Kris could only guess was his attempt to sigh in relief burst from Adam's lips. And then he was completely unconscious in his arms, head lolling lifelessly downward, leaving Kris to steady him with all the strength he could muster and marvel at the profound, utterly exhausted alleviation that danced on every nerve in his body as he emerged from the wreckage onto the wet, dusky stretch of road, surrounded by a crowd of familiar, worried faces.

He shook off the weary, battered fatigue that tugged at his mind and gently sat on the asphalt, not relinquishing his hold on the best friend he'd ever had.

---------------------

It felt as if the ambulances would never come, as if hours, instead of mere minutes had gone by. Kris couldn't seem to get my mind to function, as the girls from the other bus, rattled by the plight of the guys' bus, gathered in frightened vigil around Allison, still cradled, snug in Anoop's arms.

They whispered; shocked and shaken, about how it could've been their bus, and how Allison had been hurt because of her decision to go out to eat after the show and crash on one of the boys' sofas.

Michael Sarver lumbered uneasily over to Kris and handed him his cell phone, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other and trying not to stare too worriedly at Adam, seeing how upset Kris was by the tears streaming down his sooty face. "I just... well, I, um... thought you'd want to call your wife. I just called my family, and the others have too... There's helicopters, and the sirens are coming this way... I'm sure it's all over the news."

"She's probably worried." He agreed solemnly, voice low. He accepted the phone, and Sarver, with one last concerned glance, trudged away, unable to look at Adam anymore. Kris soon found that he couldn't induce his fingers to input the correct numbers to reach Katy. For a brief instant, he wasn't even certain what the correct numbers were. His head throbbed and his slightly burnt fingertips slowly punched in each digit as he willed himself to think straight.

".... hello?" her uncertain greeting rang in his ears.

"Katy," He murmured wearily, not knowing what to say to her next.

He paused, and listened to her gasp and begin crying, gasping sobs that hiccupped in her voice. "... oh, Kris... I-I was so... are you okay? I was watching the news to see the weather report and t-t-this story came on..."

"I'm fine, Katy. It's okay, I'm okay." He managed to assure her. "Help is coming... I can hear the sirens, so it's okay. I knew you'd be worried, so I called. But, I'm fine."

She responded, and at length, but Kris didn't hear her beyond the relieved, joyous gasp of "Oh, thank God!" His thoughts and gaze were focused on the injured man he still held in his arms.

"Honey?" Katy was asking. "Is everyone else okay? ... Kris, can you hear me?"

"Yes, I'm here." He searched his muddled brain for some way to describe the situation. Nothing in his vocabulary seemed adequate. "I—I... Allison's hurt, we don't know how badly . . . and so is Adam. There's a few others with... you know, bruises and scrapes and minor stuff... but there's a hospital not too far. We're on the outskirts of the capital, so I'm sure we'll be headed there. It's not like, a grade-A medical facility like in LA or anything... this place it's small, out of the way—remote enough... we'll be fine." Kris cut himself off as he realized he was rambling nervously.

"I'll meet you there," Katy assured him. He wanted to tell her that he was fine and she needn't fly out here from Arkansas, but he couldn't find the heart to admonish her for worrying about him. "You said Allison and —um... —and Adam?"

"I did." Kris replied, and Katy let out a small coo of concern. "Katy - I have to go now... the sirens are getting closer." He winced at the lie, but he felt too exhausted to talk to her, to anyone. "Don't worry yourself sick over this - I'm fine, everything..." He paused, glancing down. "Everything's going to be okay."

"I know it will. I was just... I was so scared for you, baby." She murmured lovingly. "I will see you as soon as I can. I love you." The call ended with a crackle of static, and he leaned back against the outer wall of the tunnel wearily, feeling a crushing burden of responsibility settle onto his shoulders, and into his stomach.

He barely heard the gentle murmur of the assorted crowd surrounding the crash site or the whirr of the news helicopters overhead. Suddenly Kris felt a thousand years old and more tired than he had ever been in his life. He let his eyes slide closed, just for a moment.

"Are you all right, Kris?" Matt Giraud's concerned voice cut into Kris' fogged mind like a blade on steel. "You certainly don't seem okay."

He opened his eyes and pushed himself to sit up completely straight. "I'm not the one you should be worried about," He countered, then turned his gaze upon Adam. Matt followed his eyes, wincing.

"Did you want to go see Allie? She's not awake or anything," He mumbled quietly. "But I thought you might want to. I'll take care of him if you want to... for a minute."

He did want to, but he hated the idea of letting Adam go again. With a sigh, he focused on his pang of worry for the girl and nodded at Matt, who knelt down and allowed Kris to carefully deposit Adam's body into his bigger, stronger arms.

Kris sighed and turned away from his friend's limp form, crossing the small space to where Anoop held Allison. He just stood there for a moment, staring down at her unconscious form, and felt a wave of sickening, dizzying fear and guilt wash over him. _What would have happened if Adam and I hadn't fought? Would she have been all right? And Adam? Would they have been up there in that hatch?_

He had failed him. Failed her. As a friend, as a brother, as...— the thoughts gushed through his overwhelmed senses and tears started to run again in tiny rivulets down his black-coated cheeks.

Her eyes fluttered open suddenly and focused slowly on Kris. Anoop shifted his weight in surprise and smiled down at her, and Megan and Lil, also standing nearby, gasped. "Kris..." she whispered. "Kris, is—is Adam all right?"

Kris didn't know how to answer. He knelt down and touched her ashen cheek, the one that wasn't gauzed with a sloppy, temporary bandage, with the back of his hand and struggled to find the words, for she deserved an honest explanation. "I—" He began, and couldn't finish the sentence. "I . . . brought him out, Allie, but—I don't know. I just—don't know."

"He's . . . here?" she asked, and her face changed infinitesimally, some tiny spark of light came back into her eyes. "Adam's here?" She turned her head and glanced around at all of the faces peering down at her. Looking for him. Kris thought his heart would break into a million little pieces as the light died in her eyes as quickly as it had appeared.

"Where, Kris? Where—where is he?" She asked, confused and tired.

Kris cursed the slow passage of time and their solemn wait for medical assistance, leaning in closer and putting both of his hands on her shoulders to soothe her. "Easy, Allie. He is . . . resting. Over there with Matt. But . . . he is . . . not well. I—" He just couldn't finish, couldn't find the words, and so he let the sentence trail off pathetically and stood up, his head bowed.

She laid one hand over Anoop's on her shoulder, sighing. "He saved me," she said softly. "He's gotta be okay... he p-pushed me out of there just before the roof fell... right when the... f-fire started." Her eyes closed. "He has to be okay... has to.'"

He could tell when she eased into a weak sleep and Anoop disengaged his hand from hers as gently as he could, not wanting to disturb her again. Still, he couldn't keep himself from sighing in worry, and several of the others not gathered around Adam echoed the sentiment. Then Anoop looked up at Kris, and there was hope and light in warm brown of his eyes, and that was something Kris sorely needed at that moment.

Kris leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead, praying the light touch wouldn't wake her but needing to make the gesture, if only for his own sake. He closed his eyes for one second more, and then straightened up, turning away. She seemed as if she would be all right until the help arrived, and he needed to go back to Adam.

Matt frowned uncertainly at him from where he waited; Adam's head leaned into the crook of his arm. "Thanks," Kris said, and Matt warbled out an acknowledgement, eyes on the lifeless form he held.

"We have to do something. I know time's not on our side, Kris... help is coming… but…"

Kris took a deep breath and knelt down to their level, placing a hand against Adam's cheek. He lay sideways in Matt's embrace, pretty much as he had left him. He slowly let his eyes rove over Adam's body, cringing.

He hadn't dared to peel charred cloth away from his back after carrying him out— he didn't know anything about treating burns like this, after all—but they could see his blistered skin, tortured by unnatural heat. There were several tiny patches on his shoulder where the fabric had burned away completely. He knew that if they weren't careful, they'd do more harm than good if they tried to help - but it felt like they needed to do something, or they'd risk losing him.

The rasping sound of his breathing, hoarse and labored, worried Kris, for it sounded as if he was struggling merely to inhale and exhale. His injured arm dangled off to the side, burnt sleeve gruesomely eaten out of shape, something else he hadn't dared do anything about, but Adam's good arm was pressed against Matt's, his fingers curled into a fist against the cloth. He seemed to be resting, as Kris had told Allison, but it certainly wasn't the healing, restful slumber those words implied.

In unconsciousness, his face was still twisted in a mask of distress, his brow creased with pain. Kris sat down beside Matt and laid his fingers against Adam's forehead. His skin still felt hot beneath his hand, as if carrying him away from the writhing, flame-engulfed bus had done little to quell the fire inside him. He moaned slightly as he touched him, his mouth tightening with lines of pain, and he tossed his head slightly against Matt's elbow.

Kris winced. Matt was right, they couldn't just leave him there like that. The burns on his back could dehydrate him, and might eventually fester in infection if they didn't do something before the paramedics came. Matt closed his eyes and reached out, wrapping an arm around him and shifting him so it might be easier for Kris to examine the worst of it. He took a deep breath and steadied Adam's shoulder with one hand. With the other he reached down and began the process of easing most of the ruined fabric away from his shoulders as best as he could without peeling away the burned skin.

Adam flinched, murmuring a curse word into Matt's arm. Kris looked at Matt briefly, realizing distantly that he'd been with Adam when he'd bought that particular garment. The memory of fun outings with Adam made his eyes blur, and he had to stop in his task for a moment.

The burned, blistered skin on his upper shoulder twisted his stomach up in knots — the knowledge that it was his fault that Adam had gone up there into harm's way, his failure that done this to him made me feel physically ill with irrational reprehension.

He finally pulled the charred remnants that he could away, then got up to retrieve the medpack from the girls' bus, cleaning his hands with disinfectant and reaching for the bandages. There was a tiny tube of burn cream, one Kris hoped would keep Adam stable for the time being.

Nauseous, he began to spread the cream over the worst of the injuries. The muscles in Adam's good arm clenched as he touched him, and his other arm twitched, as if he was trying to lift it, but the melted fabric and burns there made it impossible.

"Easy, Adam," He murmured sadly. "Easy."

A tremor passed through his entire body, and his eyes snapped open. He shook as he gasped for breath, shuddering painfully. His face tightened with pain; and his good hand balled up the fabric of Matt's shirt again. "Allison," he said in a tone hoarse with pain and desperation. His voice faded and broke, and it was almost physically painful to watch his cracked lips form the words, as he stared up at Matt, eyes stormy. "Where . . . where's Allie? Is she . . . all right . . .?"

Something in Kris ached. "She's fine, Adam," He whispered.

At the sound of his voice, Adam's eyes darted to fall on Kris. A twinge of hot, yellow fury blazed on his face, and Kris felt his heart shatter. "You," he snarled. His rage was weak, but Kris felt it exponentially, like a haze that shimmered in the air around him. A long torrent pained mumbling that neither Matt nor Kris could decipher followed, and Kris could barely breathe.

"Adam, I'm not trying to hurt you," Kris said desperately, pushing past the sickening sadness that had overwhelmed him and managing to quickly press bandages onto his shoulder and upper back over the cream, a temporary fix.

His face twisted into a horrible mask of his usual features, and he didn't respond to Kris, just looked at him with hollow, pained eyes.

Overcome, he pulled himself to a straighter position beside Matt and passed a hand over his eyes in an effort to clear his vision of tears. Adam was crumpled helplessly in Matt's hold, his breath sobbing painfully in his lungs. His head turned away from Kris when the latter laid a comforting hand on his good arm, and they could see tears streaking his cheeks, as his face flashed with hurt like the fiery chaos they had just left come to life in his eyes.

_"Get . . . away . . . from me!"_ he gasped quietly, more of a plea than an order.

"Adam..." Kris tried, feeling as if his heart had been torn out of his chest all over again. Matt looked up at him, sympathetic and scared.

"Y-you don't care about me..." Matt's arms tightened protectively around him. One more word seemed like it would be enough to break him in two, but he continued, breathlessly. "You never cared a-a-about... me..."

_Does he really think that? Or is he only delirious from the pain?_ Kris wondered numbly, biting his lip. "I'm . . . sorry, Adam." It was all he could manage say. "I do care about you. A lot."

"Just . . . _go . . . !"_ he repeated, voice tightening and deepening into a low whisper. His chest rippled dangerously as his breath faltered, and Matt shot Kris a wide-eyed look.

Without a word, he obeyed, no longer seeing any point in staying when Adam was causing himself even more pain at his presence. He staggered helplessly over to the others, leaning into Megan's arms. He covered his face with one hand and realized belatedly that he was shaking.

Even if Adam was healed completely, there were other wounds that would be harder to fix. The knowledge of this tore Kris' soul asunder and he winced, tears spilling out of the corners of his eyes.

Blankly, he dizzily followed the others when several wailing ambulances finally pulled up a few moments later.

----------------------

So....?


	3. PART 3

Title: Resolution

Genre: Angst/Drama

Rating: PG-13

Summary: (part 3) Katy arrives at the hospital, and she and Kris have some meaningful conversations about their marriage and about Adam. He is allowed to visit both of his friends in their respective rooms and stuff happens. Oh, and a nurse embarrasses him. Couldn't forget that!

Notes: ANGSTY ANGSTY ANGST. :) Thank you for your reviews so far!!

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"I'm fine," Kris commanded distractedly, for the third time. The ache in his head had formed into a solid, throbbing mass of pain, and he was having considerable trouble focusing. It was already well into the next day and he hadn't slept a wink...

"But, Kris, surely you need some medical attention too—" Danny started, indicating that some of the others were getting minor injuries treated in a treatment room nearby. Kris, teetering dangerously on the edge of true physical and emotional collapse, simply couldn't deal with the endless, pointless blathering about his decidedly not serious condition.

"I. Am. Fine." He bit the words out one by one and turned away from Gokey without bothering to see how he'd react. He heard the slight shuffling as his concerned companion made his way back up the hallway, and gave a sigh of relief, realizing that he'd been left alone after all. He stood in an exhausted sort of haze, staring into the inner bowels of the medical clinic.

Adam and Allison had already been rushed in there, as soon they'd arrived. Obviously, the news had spread quickly, and TVs in the hospital waiting rooms even flashed with the news of the crash. He was not allowed to visit either of them yet, for their families (who had flown in as quickly as possible) had just finished their own visits, and he assumed that the doctors needed proper time to examine each of them.

He'd caught Mrs. Lambert and Mrs. Iraheta hugging and crying in the hall, and Eber Lambert's somber gaze had been enough to make him turn around and wait outside the area instead. After what seemed like hours, he blankly watched them depart, and a nurse told him he'd soon be allowed to see them with any luck. He wondered what would happen if—when— he was; and that slow, dull pain from his heart spread all through him again at the thought. Its fortunate the medical center's waiting area has such comfortable chairs, he thought, as he sunk hopelessly into one. He doubted that he would have made it much longer on his feet, and the last thing we need is to have me lying here, passed out. He was excruciatingly tired.

The hospital wing was blur of activity to Kris' unfocused eyes as he'd made his way through it. The day had been the most utterly exhausting of his life, and he'd felt as though he could barely put one foot in front of the other. But, he thought with a small sigh as he stood up again after several long minutes of sitting, I can't just sit here. I have to do something.

He nearly ran into a small, brown-haired nurse in the hall because he hadn't seen her behind the cart of supplies she was pushing, and his reflexes and senses were dulled enough by weariness to slow his reaction time down by quite a bit. "I'm sorry," He breathed as he caught himself.

"That's all right." She looked and sounded almost as deadened and exhausted as he felt, and Kris guessed that she'd worked the late shift and cared for them all through the night. She then looked at him with eyes that were blank with tiredness. "Kris Allen," she said in a tone of dull recognition, then heaved a deep sigh, launching into the obligatory part of her job. "Well, Miss Iraheta's doing all right now. We decided to move her into a general room after her parents left because she's stabilized enough not to warrant intensive care."

Kris closed his eyes, nearly staggering as a wave of unadulterated relief washed over him, leaving him weak and shaking in its wake. Thank God. A small hand on his arm brought him back to himself. The nurse's tired eyes were looking at him with quite a bit more life than they had shown earlier, shining with worry. "Mr. Allen," she said, her voice much firmer now, "Are you sure, you don't need medical care? I can arrange for one of the doctors to just look you over..."

He shook her off. "It's nothing; I'm just tired, it's been a rough night... day, you know. Can I see Allison?"

Her small mouth set into an unhappy, disapproving line. "I suppose. Just... get some rest, all right? Exhausting yourself into collapse isn't going to do anyone here any good, least of all Miss Iraheta and Mr. Lambert."

"I know," Kris muttered, feeling as if a heavy, crushing weight was sitting on his chest, making it hard to breathe. "I know."

She gave him a sad smile and turned away, wheeling the cart along with her. He watched her go, then slowly opened the door and slipped into Allison's room as unobtrusively as he could manage. He didn't know when she had become so much like a sister to him, that had always seemed like her and Adam's thing, but now that she had he couldn't seem to go back to thinking of her in any other way.

She appeared to be sleeping; one hand rested on her stomach, but as Kris entered, her eyes blinked open and focused on him. He moved to sit by her bed and reached out to take her fragile hand in both of his own as she turned toward him. Allison opened her mouth as if to speak, but Kris shook my head to prevent her from doing so.

"How are you feeling? You know that everyone's going to want to come in here after me." He told her, trying to sound steady and strong. "All right," she replied. "Don't worry, Kris. I'm gonna be okay... got a concussion, cut my cheek... some bruised ribs..." She took a deep breath. "H-how's . . . A-Adam?"

"I haven't seen him yet," He told her. "He was . . . hurt . . . fairly badly—" Kris took a deep breath, ashamed of how his voice shook, thick with emotion. He knew that he sounded like he was about to cry.

She shook her head quickly and knowingly, red hair tossing on the pillow. "No. Don't blame yourself. It's was just some freak thing..." Allie smiled tiredly then. "Not your fault..."

Kris managed a weak smile in return. Allie sighed and turned her head away. In the sound were echoes of sorrow, pain, weariness, and a measure of worry that made his heart ache. He closed his eyes and sat there with her, her hand small and fragile in his. She fell slowly asleep again and he got up as quietly as he could. He closed his eyes for one more moment, and then straightened up, turning away.

The world blurred in front of him as he forced his eyelids upward again, and Kris quickly steadied himself with a hand on the wall beside him. The floor seemed to shift and quake beneath his feet. He took a deep breath and focused on merely clearing his vision for one long moment.

A dull, throbbing ache seemed to have settled directly behind his eyes. He rubbed at his sore temples, wincing at the pain shooting through his skull. All Kris really wanted for one moment was to find some dark, quiet place where I could lie down and rest for a while, let my aching, exhausted body recover, and forget the events of the past few days, pretend that none of this had happened at all.

But he knew that couldn't happen. He had to check on Adam first, and he knew Katy would arrive any minute. "Mr. Allen?" The semi-familiar voice in front of him brought his head up with a snap that sent another stabbing pain through his mind. Light and colors reeled in front of him until his sight came back into focus and he realized the female nurse from earlier was standing there, her hands resting firmly on her slender hips.

"You are not all right," she stated with conviction as he focused his eyes wearily on her. "You should definitely be in bed. When your wife gets here, she's going to kill me... either that or sue the hospital. Do you want me to have to sedate you? I will, you know."

"I'm fine," Kris reiterated wearily. "Just tired." And he didn't have time to waste with a pushy, stubborn doctor. He took a step past her.

She grabbed his arm just above the elbow and spun him back around to face her. "When are you planning on at least sitting down and closing your eyes?" she demanded. "Look, I know you're trying to be strong, these are two of your best friends," she continued. "But you need rest, and you need it before you pass out at my feet!"

"I'll get some rest soon enough," Kris told her, allowing himself to be a little amused at her motherly tone. "I just have to do something first. Does that satisfy you?"

She looked at him and then sighed. "Mr. Lambert," she said, and it wasn't a question.

"Yes," He said, losing patience as he tried again to maneuver past her and she again blocked him, this time stopping him by planting one hand on his chest.

"Promise me you'll get some rest soon and I'll take you to him," she said.

"I promise, all right?" Kris said; his tone short and clipped with mild annoyance. "Now may I see him?"

She released him and shrugged. "I suppose that's the best I'm going to get." She hesitated, cocking her head to one side, and then grinned. It lit up her face and she suddenly seemed much younger, around Allison's age, but that hardly seemed possible. That thought was another twinge of pain. "You're really something, you know that?" she asked him.

"Huh?"

She just shook her head at me, laughing slightly to herself. "So stubborn and thick-headed," she said. "Cute little accent—Arkansas, isn't it?— selfless attitude... you know, I didn't think you could possibly really be like what you seemed on TV, but you are."

He blinked, not certain whether he should be flattered or not, and she seemed to find that even more amusing.

"I'll show you to his room," she said. "Just be careful, he's —" She paused, as if trying to figure out a way to describe his condition. "... unstable. In a considerable amount of pain... he's a little delirious; it's a combination of the pain and drugs that did that..."

Kris nodded his understanding, and mentally prepared himself. But even after doing that, the instant he walked into the room, heavy-laden with the scent of antiseptic, and saw him, he knew it wasn't enough.

The sight still hit him like a bullet to the chest, not that he'd ever taken one of those. A hoarse, desperate cycle of inhaling and exhaling split the air around him and he gasped.

The door to the trauma center closed silently behind him and he took a step forward. Adam no longer lay still; facedown on the stretcher they had loaded him onto in passive, compliant unconsciousness from the ambulance. Instead, his body, turned on its side (good arm pressed into the mattress) jerked and convulsed as if run through with some kind of small electric shock each time he breathed in or out, and a respiratory aid plugged his nasal passages and dangled beside the stretcher by a few cords.

"Adam... " Kris whispered over the harsh, grating sound of his breathing. He closed the gap between them, numbly staring. After a moment, he looked down; gazing upon him too long was hard. "Please, Adam... you have to stop this. You're scaring me." He shook his head at the uselessness of this plea.

Adam tossed his head back a bit and moaned quietly. The sound was full of an anguished, tormented helplessness that he had never heard in anyone's voice before. It seemed to waver on for a moment as his hoarse, broken voice faded in and out.

A hand of pure emotion caught his heart, and he dropped to his knees, tears filling his eyes. Adam drew in raggedly for breath, his browline creasing slightly as he tensed and relaxed, sighing as if he simply couldn't get enough air and was resigned to the fact. Kris looked at him, huddled over on the bed, and pain shot through him. Clutching his hand to his forehead, his body rocked a bit, unsteady.

"Adam." He tried again and he stood suddenly after realizing he'd stumbled haphazardly to his knees. But he broke off in a tiny gasp as pain shot through him from his ribs. He passed a hand over them and thought he felt nothing broken, so he ignored the pain and concentrated on the other man. "Adam..." He repeated, touching his hand. "You have to be okay. There's more that needs to be said... I-I... have to fix this mess." He brushed Adam's hair from his eyes, sadly noting the bruises that had joined the small welt on his chin, marring his freckled face.

Then, blue eyes snapped up and focused on him, and Adam's features contorted into a frustrated, pained expression. "Why a-are... you here?" he spat. Kris saw the fire he'd rescued Adam from rage in those eyes, stark against his death-pale skin.

"Adam...! " Kris exclaimed desperately. "No— it's not like that..."

When Adam looked at him, the incredible force of the pain in his face shoved him backward and it was as if a tight, crushing grip settled over his windpipe, cutting off all air supply. He gasped noiselessly, raising a hand to claw desperately at Adam's hand even though he knew it wouldn't do any good. Through the dark spots beginning to dance in front of his eyes, he saw Adam wince suddenly, black fingernails tearing small rents in the thin sheets he clenched. "Stay away from me," he ground out. "Go away— go to— ... to Katy."

Kris, horror-stricken and exhausted, thought he was going to black out completely, his vision blurring into darkness, but he could still see one silvery droplet slip slowly down Adams battered cheek. That single tear shocked him into focus.

"Adam—" He croaked sullenly. "Adam—please— settle down, you're delirious. You need to stay calm."

Abruptly, Adam turned into his pillow and sobbed quietly. "Kris..." The choking pressure lifted from Kris' throat, and he could breathe again. He laughed nervously with the relief of it, his chuckle drowned of any real mirth by his friend's tears.

Adam's hand that he'd been holding fell helplessly to the bed, and his whole body commenced shuddering with slow, painful whimpers. Kris felt for a moment as if he could actually see the pain and heat swirling through his body.

A familiar presence suddenly joined them, like the wash of cool rain on a hot day in Conway, and he felt new strength flow into me, new energy. He didn't turn around at first, seeing Adam sag against the surface of the stretcher, quiet again now.

Then, he slumped down to the floor. A pair of heels clicked over to him and Katy was there. His wife, his beautiful Katy - her eyes, her lips, her smell. She was kneeling in front of him and reached out and steadied him with a hand on each shoulder as he wavered and almost fell. "Easy there, Kris," she said softly.

He stared blankly at her, simply unable to process her words or presence for a moment.

"Kris," she said again, eyes dancing with concern, and laid her hand against Kris' face, shaking him gently with the other. "You all right?"

Finally, it filtered into his mind that she was asking how he was. "I'm fine," Kris said dazedly, his voice rasping painfully in his throat, then, eventually, "Katy."

She grinned a little at that, then climbed to her feet and offered him her hand. Kris pulled himself up with her aid and looked past her to Adam. His breath rattled hoarsely in his throat as he lay there, but at least he was still now, quiet. She followed his gaze and he was shocked to silence when she made her way to his side, lifting a shaky hand and touching his face. He fought weakly as she touched him, probably guessing it was Kris again, but she caught him in her arms, holding him awkwardly around his injuries - stroking his hair, his face, the back of his neck, until he quieted and let her settle him tenderly back to the bed without struggling.

Kris' questioning gaze made her smile sheepishly. "I've taken care of you when you're sick before... and I-I thought I could help. It's the least I can do, really." And he saw the guilt in her eyes then, tiny sparkles of sadness that made him ache.

He braced himself on the wall and raised a hand to massage his head. The movement must have caught her attention, for she raised her head and glanced over at him. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked, and she stepped over to him, touching his arm. There was still a tense, strange air around them - leftover from weeks of fighting and lack of real conversations.

"I'm okay," He replied softly. "It's just a little . . . sore." She pursed her lips. "Nothing feels permanently damaged?"

He cast a long look at Adam, and saw her cringe, realizing what he was thinking. Feeling bad, Kris answered, "No, nothing." he took a deep breath. "I'm perfectly fine."

She shrugged a bit and turned back to Adam's prone figure, eyes dimmed in thought. "I feel awful about this, Kris." She admitted. "He's a good person, I never meant to hurt him, and I ended up hurting you in the process... I just... I was so scared. And so stupid. And now this..." She laid her hand against Kris' chest, and he hid a wince of pain at the contact. She sighed, overcome. "His condition is serious, isn't it?"

Her eyes flicked over to Kris in one last flash, and the expression in them was almost the exact same one Adam used to send his way when the judges had given him any less than excellent comments in their performance reviews. "I hope he's okay, Kris. I know he means a lot to you, and you're upset with me for what I did... how I messed things up. I want a chance to make things right... with you and him. I just hope it's not too late. "

With that, she turned away, tears filling her eyes. After taking in one small breath, she cast him a quick glance and walked out, the awkward sadness she'd treated him with not leaving the room and hanging in the air, stagnant. She departed, walking purposefully down the hallway, leaving Kris standing there with a half-formed reply on his lips and no real idea what had just happened or what he should do next.

---------------------------------------

_His smile is bright as ever, even early in the morning. Blue, green, and red sparkles dance on his shirt, forming the word 'WICKED' in curvy letters— 'Oh, sunshine? It's time to wake up now' he says teasingly, and knocks his arm against the bed with a mischievous giggle— 'Hurry up, Krissy-Poo, rehearsal starts in an hour...'— He ducks the pillow Kris throws—_

_A different scene, back home in Arkansas, blue eyes meet blue and he kisses her— Katy's honey-yellow hair brushes his shoulder when she leans in—he's still crazy about that flowery scent from her shampoo, and it is ever- present, especially as they lay blissfully within each other's arms, waiting for the sunrise —_

_"Kris?"_

_"Kris?" Adam's voice is a mixture of mischievous, teasing amusement and impressed respect as he looks into Kris' exhausted face. "So... you're THE American Idol, huh?"_

_He shrugs . . . "America seems to think so."_

_Adam grins at the long-suffering note in my voice. "Don't even think it, man. Even I think you're a fair singer . . . ."_

_"Fair?" He raises his eyebrows, a laugh building in his throat._

_"Teasing, teasing!" He waves a hand in surrender, before clapping it on his shoulder, pulling him in for a hug. "You deserve this, Kris. I'm so happy for you."_

_"Kris?" Something—someone—was shaking him._

_Haunting blue light is falling upon the stage and casting shadows around Adam's face as he sings, the lyrics of the tune captivating the audience as well as Kris from backstage. He whistles, low, in awe, as Adam's voice swells gently and beautifully with the piano. He really is a vocal acrobat, and Kris is seized by pride in his friend._

"Kris, can you wake up?" The gentle hand was so warm on his shoulder.

But he wanted to sleep.

"Kris, you need to wake up."

That hardened, rough voice got through to Kris, and curiosity forced his head up even as he blinked the combination of sleep and memories out of his eyes. Several figures swam slowly into focus - Danny, Matt, Michael, Lil, and Megan - along with the hazy, blue-gray walls of the hospital corridor.

"Sorry to wake you, sugar," Lil said in a gentle tone, one that meant she really was sorry to wake him. The female nurse from earlier, several yards away, glowered at them, before bustling away. Megan giggled tiredly and gave him a hand to help him pull himself into a sitting position on the low bench he'd collapsed onto, but she didn't say anything.

Kris shook his head, awareness already filtering back through his sleep-hazed mind as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "No," He said. "No, Lil, it's fine." He could feel a slight flush of shame color his cheeks. "I didn't mean to—"

"Fall asleep? It's really ok, man. We've all been doing it, at random intervals throughout the day." Matt joked. "One of the janitorial staff just had to pull Gokey out of the hallway to the maternity ward, because he almost tripped a man rushing to the bedside of his pregnant wife!"

His gaze rose at the sound of Matt's voice, and he managed a dry chuckle.

Megan laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Ease up, guys," she said. "It's been a ridiculous day... especially for Kris."

Kris shook his head as he got to my feet, letting his breath out in a hiss as his exhausted muscles stiffened and complained. "No, it's all right. What do you need from me?" I felt like saying something more along the lines of, "Why in the world did you wake me up?" but he managed to refrain.

"Well," Danny began uneasily. "The media's starting to catch on that at least one of us is, for now, under twenty-four hour care because of the accident... and well, they are speculating that it's you, and we thought you should be aware of that. They have footage of Katy entering the hospital, and I don't know... I guess they're going off of that. We're concerned that there will be an investigation into what happened... and well, uh... we were thinking about this when we realized, we really don't know what happened and why or how... we were hoping to see what you knew?" He smiled sheepishly and they all shuffled slightly, as if suddenly considering this a stupid reason to wake someone up. But Kris nodded slowly, because they had a right to know - he'd want to know anything about what the hell had even happened before the press did. Problem was, what did Kris know?

"You were up there... sort of," Matt said, serious. "And you must have seen something. You helped Allie . . . and Adam — is he okay?" The question was interjected as an afterthought, and the others bristled.

Kris hesitated, uncertain how to respond, feeling another uneasy swell of guilt rise up inside him. "He's... I don't know," He answered finally, honest but solemn. "In the room behind us. I—"

Matt shook his head, looking sad. "Explain later, Kris. Can you take us inside? Just to see him?" Lil inquired, that concerned mother tone invading her voice. Kris cast a sidelong glance at the door to Adam's room, unsure.

The nurse broke in at that point, suddenly sidling up to them and resting her hands on her hips. "Hold on just a minute. Lambert's doing better than he was earlier—a bit better, anyway—but he's still fragile. I can't let you all just walk in there and disturb him without so much as a by-your-leave."

Megan turned to her, unabashed. "We understand your concern, but we're his friends. It's a delicate situation, yes, which makes us all the more worried. Plus..." She paused, pointing down the hall to the waiting room, which was humming with the news on several TV screens. "This is all over the news... it's big, and we still have only a slight idea of what even happened. I think we have a right to know..."

"He's very fragile," she repeated stubbornly, her chin taking on a determined thrust and her mouth settling into an obstinate, disapproving line. "And I cannot just write off the welfare of one of my patients, best friends or not. He's already proven himself to be — well, rather weak and unstable."

Kris winced at that, and the others' eyes swung toward him before he could cover the involuntary reaction entirely. "Kris?" Lil asked softly.

He shook his head, Lil had always been perceptive. "It's nothing. Maybe we shouldn't go in. I wouldn't want to . . . disturb him."

"We were allowed to see Allison," Matt replied coaxingly. "And I know Adam was hurt pretty bad, but if we cause him any distress, we'll leave... we're only worried, that's all."

"All right," she sighed. "You can see him... briefly. Just um, keep it down, okay? He's drugged out of his mind, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel anything or won't react to you, and if he does, he'll probably just be even more confused."

Danny started after her first, and Kris hung back, afraid to enter Adam's room for a moment. Megan noticed his hesitance and stopped as well. "Krissy?" She asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You all right?"

"It's my fault." He admitted abruptly, the words pouring out of him, and confusion filled her eyes.

"No, it's not," she said. "How could you think that? It was an accident, Kris. You had nothing to do with it."

"But—" Kris stopped in mid-sentence. "Adam and I—" He realized he had no idea what he was going to say, so he stopped again. "What if he's not okay?" He finally asked, the question burning him as it spilled from his lips.

She sighed, worry creasing around her eyes. "You saved him, Kris. He wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you. Everything happens for a reason - I bet he'll be fine."

He swallowed hard, the thought of Allison, and of Adam's family, coming to mind. What would happen to her, to them, to him, in a world without Adam? "Thanks, Megan—" he started.

"Don't mention it," She said, almost in her normal, bubbly voice. "We'll discuss everything later. Right now, I want to see Adam."

Kris sighed, accepting her words, and followed her into the medical room.

The sight of Adam lying there, unconscious on the bed, made his heart contract in pain and worry. He had seen people in hospitals before - hell, even he'd been put in one after a bad bicycling accident as a kid - but this was different. This hurt more.

This time, he felt almost like he had a hand in putting the patient there.

Adam lay on his side still, his back and shoulders swathed in the gauzy, translucent bandages used on burns. The nurse had been right about him being drugged—his entire body had the slack, near-lifeless relaxation that only sedatives seemed to produce. It was the most quiescent Kris had seen him in a long time. The entire room echoed with the hoarse sound as he struggled to take in air and the slow, heavy exhalation as he blew it out again. This was unnaturally amplified thanks to the mask now fitted over his mouth and nose to help him breathe as his lungs recovered from the smoke inhalation. This coupled with the silence from everyone else in the room sent an instinctive frisson of disquiet crawling up Kris' spine, and Megan shivered involuntarily beside him, even though the room was not particularly cold.

A medical intern hovered around him, taking readings and adjusting the tubes of medication running into his good arm, and he hurried to complete his work when he saw Adam had visitors. They had cut away the remainder of the ruined fabric, and the pale hospital gown he wore and new bandage wrapped around his moderately singed arm made him look even more vulnerable. They could see the outline of his left leg beneath the light blanket that had been drawn up to his waist, and it was wrapped tight in a thin, stretchy bandage at the ankle. _Damn those boots, I told him he'd be up Shit Creek without a paddle wearing them in an emergency_, Kris remembered, grateful for the seemingly minor ankle injury.

The intern adjusted a few knobs on the console the IVs were hooked up to before exiting. Adam turned his head slightly into the pillow as if, even in unconsciousness, he didn't want to face the cold impersonality of the hospital, or his helplessness. He always hated that, more preferring being the needed than the needy. He would hate to see himself like this, so helpless and weak. Kris thought.

The door swooshed shut behind them as Katy suddenly entered. She looked surprised to see so many in the room and he blushed, staring awkwardly at Kris. "I'm sorry... I didn't know you all were-" She began, but she stopped, then stepping over to Kris. With a tiny, sad grin, she asked, "Are you okay?"

"What?" Kris asked, starting a little. "Oh, yes. I—I'm fine." He swallowed hard, realizing he'd been crying.

She laid one hand on his shoulder in a wordless gesture of reassurance, unsettling him completely with the depth of her understanding. Then, Kris managed to turn to the others, who both looked at Adam with varying degrees of grimness and solemnity. "See what I meant?" he said, crossing to Adam's side and bending over some of the medical readouts. He looked back at them. "Are you satisfied now?"

"What happened to him?" Danny asked in an abrupt tone. "He got caught in the fire up front?"

Kris nodded unhappily, not thankful for Gokey's ignorance, but remembering distantly that he'd seemed pretty shaken, being familiar with death and tragedy, while they waited for the paramedics, and probably didn't know the extent of what had occurred.

"Well, what happened?" he demanded in a tone that left Kris no doubt that he was used to getting answers to his questions. "I mean Christian died in there..."

"Lucky . . . he was very lucky," Lil looked to be on the verge of tears. She turned to Kris, eyes warm and pooling with emotion. "Kris chose to go up there and pull him out. He risked his life."

Adam then stirred, almost as if he were aware the discussion was about him. His head rolled to the side as his fingers clenched into a fist, and he drew in a rough rattle of breath. Slowly, his fevered eyes fluttered open, lashes shielding them from the light of the room. The pace of his labored breathing quickened. "Can't . . . _breathe_," he gasped. The respiratory device distorted his words, muffling them so they were difficult to understand.

Kris, startled from everything, started toward him out of reflex, but stopped when Adam's eyes flickered. "You . . . still here," he whispered hoarsely, angrily.

"Adam, don't," Kris said, in worry and sorrow. "I don't want for you to hurt yourself even more..."

"Why didn't you... leave?" he half-snarled. The respiratory aid wheezed as he struggled for breath. "You . . . don't care about me! You hate me."

The words felt like a knife stabbing him through the heart, and Kris stopped, frozen where he stood by the venom in the way he'd hurled them at him. There was an odd silence as the rest of the people in the room stared, shocked. "I... I-I don't hate you," Kris murmured, feeling broken and utterly lost. "I love you."

He felt Katy's eyes turn on him and he looked to her, seeing understanding and acceptance written on her face. Behind her, Michael Sarver gasped sadly, blinking back tears at the sight of his friend on the bed.

The intern bustled back in, perhaps alerted to Adam awakening, and flipped a tiny switch on the console again, before departing, quick-glancing at each of the visitors quietly. Adam groaned near-noiselessly, his face twisting in pain behind the mask as his eyes slipped closed and his body went limp. Lil murmured something to Matt that Kris didn't catch. Belatedly, Kris realized that Danny was staring at him and at Adam with a very strange look on his face.

Kris didn't really care what Gokey was thinking, for he never much liked him anyway. Slowly, everyone cleared their throats, mumbled assorted goodbyes and "we'll talk soon" sentiments to Kris, and left, leaving him in the room with Adam and Katy.

Katy stepped forward. "Kris," she whispered. "I knew you loved him."

He turned to her. "Katy..." he started.

"We have a lot to talk about," Katy stated blankly, and for a moment, Kris thought she was angry again.

He replied stubbornly, "I care about Adam a lot, Katy... I do love him - and I don't care what you say, I can love both of you." He sighed and reiterated, "I do love him, Katy, he's the best friend I ever had."

"I doubt anything I say or do will ever change that, nor am I going to try to change that," she pointed out wearily. "Not anymore. Oh Kris, I've been... utterly ridiculous and unfair to you lately. I'm surprised you haven't begged me to go away and let you live your Idol dream yet."

She smiled sadly, and Kris felt a twinge in his heart. "Yet, Katy? I'd never do that. I love you so much... I..." He reached out, brushing his fingers against the back of her hand.

She sighed. "I know - which is why I can't believe I ever doubted you."

He shook his head. "It's been hard. But don't act like it was just you, okay? I'm partially to blame, you know. I just...w-want us to go back to how we used to be... I think we can."

"Do you?" she asked quietly. "Kris— I love you so much — but you must feel something has happened... to us. And I'm scared."

"And you don't know if we can ever be... like we were?" Kris fired back, for some reason not surprised by her statement. She nodded grimly, her eyes growing watery.

"I'd like to think we can," she said shortly, looking away. He caught a flash of the same old bitterness that had been in her voice earlier when she spoke about Adam's relationship with him earlier, and he briefly wondered how they'd fallen apart so much now that such a reaction from her could be warranted.

"Katy, I never stopped loving you," Kris said heavily.

Her eyes flicked to him, and he looked away, unable to look into their disconcertingly blue depths and not knowing if she would be looking at him with sadness, or with anger.

But she merely smiled then. "I know," she said. "I never stopped loving you, either. I don't know what happened to us... or how to start reversing it." She gave a slight shake of her head and turned back to Adam, her eyes sweeping tenderly over his still form. Then, she looked up at Kris wearily. "This is quite the situation we're in," she said. "This accident - the media's going insane over it, too, and you know once it starts to clear up, we'll have to confront that - and we're trying to repair a marriage at the same time..." She sighed.

"I'm sorry, Katy," He said softly. I have to make this work. Katy and I, and then there's Adam... "But we can't just give up on us. I want to fix things with you and also with Adam—" He could feel his throat closing up and struggled for control, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Just to try to forget this whole mess ever happened. He is like my brother, Katy. I tried to give up on him for you, and I couldn't do it."

Katy looked directly at him. "I think you made the right decision. I was wrong to ask you to give that up - selfish and wrong. And now we have bigger problems on our hands. The tour producers are very worried... I heard them talking in the hallway - they want Adam and Allison as well as possible soon so that they can be released and the media speculation will leave this hospital and things can go... well, as close as back to normal as possible."

"I know," He said. "But he's too fragile to be moved now, not sure about Allison... but he's definitely going to have to stay awhile longer." She didn't respond, merely stared at Adam's unconscious body. "What are we going to do?" He prompted.

"For now?" she asked. "For now, Kris, there's really nothing we can do but—hope." She laughed uneasily. "One thing at a time. You're right - the hospital can't just release them, they need to consider Allison's safety, his safety... first. I know you won't leave without them... and I'll be happy to stay here with you... to help you through this." She lowered her eyes. "If you want me to."

"Katy—" Kris hesitated when she put up a hand to silence him.

"Kris..." She continued haggardly, biting her lip. "Can you forgive me?"

There was a nervous quality to her voice, and he smiled softly at her. "Of course. You're not completely to blame, anyway... and I love you, so of course I forgive you." He replied instantly.

She took a deep breath. "One step at a time... that was the first step..." A gentle sigh. "Kristopher Allen, you are without doubt the most amazing man in the universe."

All air left him in a whoosh, and he felt a genuine smile twitch his lips upward for the first time in days. "You're lucky Adam's not awake, he'd take offense to that comment."

"Yes." She responded, laughing a bit. "But you won, didn't you?" Her eyes twinkled jokingly, and Kris realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd shared a good joke with her and chuckled by her side.

He looked down at the floor, processing this thought. "I did," he finally mused. After a tiny silence, he took her hand. "I'm glad you're here, Katy." He looked up at her, seeing relief alighting on her face.

She nodded, swallowing hard, but grinning widely, almost like old times. "Yeah... me too."

Then she turned toward the door, apparently not wanting to push it, even though the awkwardness had faded a bit between them. She disentangled her hand from Kris', and gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm going to go see Allison... stay with him," she told him knowingly, and he sighed then, looking at Adam. She nodded sympathetically, feeling that he didn't want to leave just yet. "Okay. I love you." He managed to smile again and watched as she left the room. Then he turned to Adam, the mix of conflicting emotions making him stagger toward the bed. He'd never felt so tired in his life.

----------------------

"Mr. Allen?" He looked up from Adam's unconscious form toward the door, seeing Adam and Allie's nurse standing there, looking surprised to see him. She then set her hands on her hips, and he winced as I felt another lecture coming on. "Do you realize that you're wavering on your feet even as you stand there? You're positively gray with exhaustion. Every time I look at you I'm surprised you haven't collapsed from it yet."

He shook his head, turning back to Adam. "It doesn't matter. I'm fine."

She glared at him, but softened at the look on his face. "Are all of the Allens this self-sacrificing, or is it just you, Kris?"

"There are more important things to worry about right now." He answered quietly, glancing back up at her, dully noting the name on the plastic tag pinned to her scrubs. Stephanie.

"You need rest!" She commanded firmly. "I don't care if there are more important things to worry about. I work for this hospital, and I'm concerned about the health of someone under my supervision. That's what I do. Do you think I want another patient on my hands? As if I didn't have enough to deal with already." She laughed tersely. "Remember, I'm willing to sedate you if need be."

"No need for such drastic measures," Kris assured her. "I'll get some rest soon enough."

"When? Once you collapse at my feet?"

"Hopefully before then," He replied, bracing himself against the wall again. She was right; he couldn't remember ever feeling so tired, and the desire to lean back and close his eyes—just for a moment—was almost unbearable.

"I'll keep an eye on him if you want to get some rest," she said, more gently. "It is my job, you know. I understand you're very worried, but there's no reason for you to stay—"

"Katy told me to stay with him," He interrupted, not entirely sure why he used that statement to justify himself.

"I can do that," she said. "Really. I am qualified to care for him, you know."

He took a deep, long breath and reminded himself that she was only trying to help him. "I need to stay," Kris said softly, looking down at Adam's limp form. I can't leave him, he thinks I don't care.

He had already failed his friend on one count. He couldn't abandon him again. Kris laid his hand against the back of Adam's neck as gently as he could, not wanting to hurt him but feeling that he needed to reach out to him somehow. His neck was unscatched and not swathed in bandages, and so seemed relatively safe to touch. His normally bright presence was dull and fogged, distanced from him and the rest of the world by the drugs they had given him. Even the physical contact didn't strengthen their connection much, but Kris didn't want to take his hand away, anyway.

"What are you giving him?" He asked, trying to distract himself from the memory of his blank, pained eyes and his face twisted with hurt and pain that had never belonged there.

"A mixture of level-three general sedatives and one used for the pain associated with burns," she answered hesitantly. "I hate to drug him so much, but he's already proven he needs it, and it might help him heal faster if he's so far under he can barely feel the pain. That way he doesn't unknowingly hurt himself more. We've done it before with crash patients."

It seemed logical. Still, it made him ache inside to think of Adam cut off from the world like that. Even more than most people, Adam lived and breathed his connection to the world and the people he interacted with.

He brushed his fingers idly over the silky tendrils of hair curling against the back of Adam's neck and then took his hand away, intending to straighten up—

Suddenly, everything was fading out into gray, and the world was spinning all around him. Kris blinked several times and only then realized that Stephanie was supporting him with an arm around his waist. "Easy there, Kris," she said. "Don't push it."

"What—?" He started fuzzily.

She eased him down onto the side of Adam's bed. "That's what happens when you don't pay attention to your body telling you to rest, tough guy."

Kris stared up at her in confusion.

"How long have you been running on empty, anyway?" she asked, pressing her cool hand against his forehead. She made a strange face, then tugged slightly on his shirt. "No fever, but something's up. Take this off."

"H-huh... what?" He stammered.

She gave him a long-suffering look. "How am I supposed to examine you with a shirt on, Mr. Allen?"

He could feel the tell-tale flush heating up my cheeks again. Katy had used to tease him about his modesty, saying that there was absolutely no reason for him to be uncomfortable with such things.

But the fact remained that the last thing he wanted was to take off his shirt and sit in front of this young female nurse half-naked. It was . . . well, it was humiliating.

"That's . . . not necessary," He said quickly, voice short with panic.

Her eyes flashed. "Kris, you nearly just passed out from exhaustion. And I don't like the look of these tears and burn marks on the fabric, either. I'm going to examine you before you end up passing out at my feet. And I promise..." She said, half-giggling, "There's no secret camera to snap your picture and post it on the internet for fan-girls to lust over." He chuckled dryly, annoyed.

Then he opened his mouth to protest again, even though he knew she was right, but she interrupted him. "Mr. Allen." She said it firmly, and then without even blinking laid her hands on the top button of his shirt and started to unfasten it.

He shoved her hands away in what was not at all the dignified manner. "I'll do it," Kris muttered absolutely gracelessly. He could feel his cheeks burning.

She smiled and stepped back. "I knew you'd see it my way."

"Who am I to argue with you?" Kris said sarcastically, shrugging unhappily out of his button-up plaid tee-shirt. Then he was sitting on the edge of Adam's medical bed and shivering slightly in the air of the room.

She laid her hands on his ribs first, pushing lightly, and her eyes narrowed as he sucked in his breath at the pain that spiked through him. "These are cracked," she said disapprovingly. "You told me you were all right."

Kris shrugged, then regretted it. "Nothing—ouch—broken."

She rolled her eyes again. "Sure."

The rest of her examination passed quickly enough, though every minute he spent with her cool, professional touch skimming over his skin, his blush deepened until his face felt practically radioactive. Only his mother and Katy had ever seen him that way... and Adam, once, when he'd walked out of their shared bathroom shirtless, not knowing his roommate was in the room. Stephanie smiled a little when she pulled away, and Kris ducked his head, hating how embarrassed he was.

He was just modest, he supposed. Incurably and incredibly modest.

"Well, not too bad... nothing that won't heal soon enough, with proper rest." She said, putting emphasis on the final words. Then she giggled, looking at his cheeks. "You can stop blushing, Kris. And you can put that back on if you want." She nodded at only slightly singed and torn shirt in his lap, and Kris hastened to pull it back over his shoulders. "I have to file a report on the two of you," she told him, starting toward the door. "I'll be back to check on him soon enough."

Kris nodded. "I understand."

She grimaced. "When I come back, you're getting some rest, okay? Whether you want to or not." At the door, she turned back around as it whooshed open. "And Kris?," she added, and gave his now- covered chest a very deliberate once-over. "Believe me—you've got nothing to be modest about. I bet the fan-girls would be very jealous of me right now."

She was gone before Kris managed to snap his mouth closed, and he could feel his cheeks flaming again.

------------------------------------

Tee-hee at embarrassed, shirtless Krissifer.

:) So yeah, I needed something a little light-hearted to end that angst.

With each chapter, we get closer to Kradam acting like buds again... reviews?


	4. PART 4

THANKS FOR THE FEEDBACK!!!

Here's Part 4.

* * *

_It was the dreams that finally brought him, shaking and terrified, out of the pain-filled color-streaked haze that clung to him and blanketed his mind with fuzzy incomprehension. Allison was in them, but she was made out of fragile glass that shattered even as he reached to embrace her, to ask her if she was okay, the shards flying into his face, his arms, his chest and drawing blood that ran down his arms, stained his hands. And Kris—but when he opened his arms to him, he turned away, his abandoning voice echoing in his ears, "I'm sorry, Adam. I love Katy... I have to do this."_

_And then there was his mother, looking at him with sadness, with grief and pain and horror and resignation, and saying, "Don't do this, Adam. Please..." Her face shifted into that of an unidentifiable monster, who called him pathetic and told him that Allison was dead, and Kris was dead, and that it was all his fault, and told him, "It's over." Adam wanted to shout that it wasn't over, how could it be over, because they'd only just begun, and there was so much more for them to do, but he couldn't because there was a mask over his face and he couldn't breathe right and he couldn't scream—_

He woke with a strangled sob that was swallowed by whatever it was over his mouth and nose that sucked his breath away, and he realized with a jolt of terror that he really couldn't breathe... his lungs wheezed painfully as he coughed.

"Easy." There was a gentle, calming hand on the back of his neck, and the voice was rough with fatigue and emotion. "Take a deep breath. Don't fight it."

That was the last thing he wanted to do, he wanted to fight and strain for air, but on some deep level he couldn't even put into thoughts he trusted that voice, and he so he obeyed, relaxed his body, and let his trembling muscles sink into the softness around him. After a moment the machine took over and his lungs expanded and filled with air and contracted, and he could breathe again as long as he didn't try taking a breath on his own. He vaguely realized that he'd been trapped in another hazy dream of drug-induced sleep.

That hand moved as if to stroke the back of his head, but it stilled in mid-motion and pulled away from his neck.

He shivered and idly raised his head, struggling to open his eyes and clear his vision, and his gaze fell on Kris, shoulders slumped and brown hair unruly on his head as it only ever was when he was too tired to care, sitting on the edge of the bed, and everything came rushing back at once. A red-hot wave of rage and pain so intense it made the spot behind his eyes ache swept over him. "What . . . are you . . . doing here?" he growled, but it took a lot more effort and sounded a lot more pathetic than he wanted it to, and he was left gasping for air again until he remembered the machine.

Kris looked sad and tired, and though he'd hotly deny it, that only served to make him hurt more. Pushing back the sympathy that rushed through him, he stared at his friend. Some part of him deep down inside wanted to cheer him up and chase that sadness from his eyes, the weariness from his face.

Adam clamped down on that part of himself, gritting his teeth. He was Adam Lambert, for fuck's sake. Kris had betrayed him. Hurt him. Adam Lambert isn't one to let things like that slide.

But his face...

He cursed the drug dosage that was wearing off slowly, for he didn't want to feel anything any longer, nothing at all. Not the pain, not the sorrow.

"I'm looking after you," Kris finally said, rubbing his forehead that way he did when he was getting a headache, and Adam wanted to massage his shoulders and coax him out of it with teasing jokes, the way he always had, until he remembered that Kris had told him he didn't want to be around him like that anymore, and how that had hurt him, and that he probably shouldn't care that the other man had a headache. No matter who that man had once been to him.

"Little late for that, don't you think?" he rasped, and he noted the agony that twisted Kris' face, the defeat in the way his shoulders slumped a little more at the question.

"It's never too late, Adam," he whispered brokenly.

This response unleashed a flood somewhere within Adam's heart, like a dam splintering swiftly into a thousand pieces. "Never too late?" he half-choked, doubt seeping into his voice. Raw pain flitted across Kris' features again at the hoarse reply.

The harsh interjection words had taken all of his strength, and Adam found that he was short of breath again, unable to bring any into his lungs. Kris' caught and held him as he gasped, one weathered, guitar-calloused hand on his cheek, the fingers in his hair, holding his head still. He murmured soothingly, telling him to relax as he massaged the back of his neck, thumb tracing little circles on his cheekbone until Adam managed to force his body to relax and the respiratory aid caught up with him. Adam was confused by the lines of worry and pain in Kris' face, and his gentleness.

"I don't understand you," he mumbled into the pillow beneath his head, voice wrought with frustration.

Kris took his hand away, and Adam hated the part of himself that missed it. "I know," He said miserably. "I'm sorry, Adam. I know I was wrong. I don't know how to fix it, but I know—I messed up."

Adam felt a tiny urge to scream, as delirious, amplified emotion cascaded over him. You did mess up— you said you'd always be there for me and you weren't, you hid your affection for me from Katy when I needed it, you punched me in the hallway of that arena, and you didn't care about me—all you cared about was your wife and what she wanted and I was never good enough... I never measured up in worth, never competed with her—and . . . and all I wanted . . . was to be your friend . . . make you . . . care for me . . . . But in the end, I fucked up, too. I didn't step back or help you and Katy have some space, some time to work out your problems, I was selfish and uncooperative, and sometimes a complete asshole to you.

He buried his head in the pillow and tried to ignore the tears leaking out of his eyes, pooling on the surface of the mask, making his bruised face sloppy and wet, and soaking into the fabric. He held his shoulders rigid to keep them from shivering and hoped that Kris might think he had fallen asleep and leave him alone.

* * *

Kris felt as if his heart had been scraped raw and his emotions were bubbling next to the surface, ready to boil over with the slightest provocation. It wasn't a feeling he was used to, he who prided himself on his laid-back, calm nature, and his control. He'd faced down countless stressful situations without so much as batting an eye, but now it felt as if one wrong word would turn him into a quivering heap of emotional goo. It was all he could do to keep himself from breaking down right there after Adam turned away from him, shutting him out as if a sturdy iron wall had slammed down between them.

He was finally leaving Adam's room when Anoop and Megan found him. "Kris?" She said in that soft, unsure tone, as if she knew how he was feeling at that moment.

"Yeah?" He replied wearily, somehow managing to straighten his shoulders and look them steadily in the eye. Anoop was taller than him, which wasn't hard, he admitted, but for some reason, meeting his eye contact was more difficult than usual. Kris decided it was because of the unrestrained worry and emotion swirling in Anoop's large brown eyes.

"We were just wondering...if you, uh, wanted to talk about this." he said.

Kris knew he stiffened at that, even though he knew he had to eventually. "Okay," He said, and his tone was short and cautious. But he had to know something before he did this "Did you guys just go see Allie?" he asked.

Megan looked ready to burst from excitement for a moment. "Yeah, oh, Kris! She's doing so much better... she's even got a little of that sparkle in her eyes... color to her cheeks, and she smiled!"

He was visibly relieved. "I'm glad to hear that." After his latest encounter with Adam, he needed some good news.

Anoop's jaw relaxed just slightly, and his shoulders straightened in obvious happiness as he grinned as well. "She did look pretty good, considering everything." he said.

"I always knew that girl was tough," Kris replied as mildly as he could and took up a position leaning against the wall. "What exactly do you all want to know?"

Anoop crossed his arms across his chest and leaned forward in a thoughtful stance. Kris sighed silently and readied himself for whatever would come.

"We were sort of wondering... do you have any idea what happened to cause the bus to crash?" he asked gently. "I mean it's not important that we know right away, there's other stuff to worry about... but we got curious watching the news report about it, and you were closer to the driver's cabin before it happened... you went up there, what did you see? If what Allison keeps saying is true, there was a lot of terrifying things that happened really fast, and the roof started to cave in, which made the dashboard catch fire—"

"Yeah, that seems to be what happened." Even Kris was surprised by how calmly he answered. "I heard some yelling... like maybe-" A wince of pain. "Maybe Christian sensed it coming and tried to stop it, and I think Adam shouted something..." He racked his brains, trying to remember.

Anoop and Megan watched him attentively, obviously hanging on his every word.

"I think it was the brakes—" He took a deep, shaking breath "—it looked like the brakes stopped working for some reason, and we skidded into the tunnel... at first just side-swiping it... maybe Christian tried to steady it, but then the walls started to collapse and we went into the other side head-on." It was definitely a plausible guess.

Anoop looked to be considering the scenario, but Megan had a faraway look in her eyes. "Kris," she said slowly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "What happened between you and Adam? We all know something's up... and I understand personal boundaries and everything, but we're really worried... about both of you."

Kris looked away. "It's— it's stupid. I was stupid. And I hurt him." The memory of Adam's accusing eyes came to mind and he swallowed hard. "I made a terrible mistake. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I messed up... and now I just want to fix it." Tears had sprung into his eyes and he stared at the white floor tiles, speckled with gray.

"He is your friend." Anoop stated comfortingly. "Kris, that man is almost like a Siamese twin to you... I used to swear you were attached somehow. Don't worry; it'll all work out, even if it seems bad now."

Kris flinched, pain blossoming within his heart. "I hope you're right," He replied, smiling haltingly.

Anoop raised his eyebrows. "Of course I'm right, I'm always right."

"Yeah," Megan chimed in, putting a hand on his arm. "You two are too damned close to not fix this - whatever this is."

Kris wasn't entirely convinced by their logic, but it shut him up for a moment, and as he considered their words, they stood their, staring with concerned gazes.

He wasn't going to pretend to be fine, but didn't break down in wracking sobs as he really was tempted to.

After they each hugged him; assuring, and walked away, their statements echoed through his head, and he shuddered.

Was Anoop right? Would the mere fact that their friendship had been so strong help to alleviate whatever poison was still leeching at their bond?

"What's troubling you, Kris?" It was a kind, soft, feminine voice. His eyes flew open and he straightened up to see Katy standing beside him again, holding a steaming paper cup in her outstretched hand. "Coffee?" She offered, and it was then he noticed the dark circles around her eyes.

He accepted the drink and took a quiet sip, not answering at first. "How's Adam doing?" She asked carefully, finger tracing the rim of her own cup as he spoke, her eyes looking at him sideways.

"Not so good," He told her in a breath, grimacing.

She used her free hand to squeeze his. "He'll get better. It just takes time."

He sniffed back the tears that had been all too close to the surface. "How—how—?" He stammered, realizing he sounded like a scared, confused child.

"Oh, honey. That just the way it works," Katy said soothingly. "Listen, Kris. You are a good man, and a good friend to Adam. And I know he's the same, and a good friend to you. He's here, and he's safe. You simply need to have a little faith in his strength - and in yours, and he'll be fine."

"But Katy, I—what if he won't forgive me, what if—" Kris couldn't bring himself to speak the words that would complete the sentence, but she seemed to understand what he'd been about to say.

She smiled sadly. "Are we thinking of the same Adam here? It seems to me the Adam we both know wouldn't go down without one heck of a fight."

"Yeah, that and some flames," Kris managed to chuckle in reply, and then smiled. "And glitter. Lots of glitter."

She reached out, pulling his shoulder toward her and embracing him with one arm. The small pressure was comforting and welcome, and he leaned into it gratefully. "Katy," he said softly.

"I missed you," She whispered into his worn shirt. He suddenly realized that in their times of awkward conversation, fights, and when he'd been away on tour - he'd ached for her horribly as well.

"I know, I missed us," he replied throatily, and held her a little closer.

* * *

There was someone else in the room with him. They had slightly increased the dosage of the drugs they were pumping into his system, so Adam wasn't clear on who it was, but he could feel the presence even through the fuzziness blanketing everything, suppressing his awareness of his surroundings. He didn't think it was Kris. This someone felt different as a presence, but trying to discern how made his head ache, and trying to emerge from the hazy realm he was entrenched in made all his thoughts become jumbled and skitter to all corners of his perception so he gave up on it.

The presence brought him out of a dull, drugged sleep, and Adam wondered hazily if the other person was going to bother to do anything. Nothing seemed quite real at the moment, and he didn't mind that. If nothing was real, than he didn't have anything to struggle against or hold onto.

"Lambert," came a vaguely familiar voice, and Adam's eyes fluttered slowly open at the sound of it, for he suddenly felt the urgent need to connect that voice to a body. A figure in front of him, and he blinked tiredly to clear his vision. It didn't work that well, but he could see well enough to tell that Danny was standing beside his bed. "I hear you're called Glambert a lot these days." Was the next statement.

He tried to speak but his mouth was dry and his tongue felt too thick. "I—" he started, uncertain of what to say and unsure why Michael was there. He didn't have the strength to force out another word.

"And I saw that Rolling Stone cover you did," came Danny's voice, abruptly turning cold. "It's all about you, isn't it? You're the star of the season, who shattered all expectations, who single-handedly saved the show." There was anger, jealousy and dislike carved in his tone. A strong hand seized his chin in a less than gentle grip and dragged his head up so that the fire of his gaze could bore directly into Adam's eyes. Gokey's fingers weren't soft and comforting as Kris' had felt, and Adam stiffened, instinctively struggling to draw away from his unwelcome guest. "But really, you're just a queer." The angry voice continued. "And look at you now... so pathetic, and so damn drugged you can't even see straight."

He let go then, and Adam felt a wave of relief as his head dropped back down to the pillow. Normally he would have taken offense to Danny's words, dared him to call him a faggot, demanded to know what sort of hardships he had faced in his life and from society, what battles he had fought, physically or otherwise simply because of who he is, but now he felt too tired, and he couldn't bring himself to feel fury at the statements. "Wha—" he struggled to question through his parched lips. "What do . . . you . . . want . . .?"

"I want to know if you had anything to do with that crash," Danny cried, his voice breaking, and there was pain behind it. "My best friend back home was in tears, screaming, thinking I wasn't ever coming back to her! Even after I tried to explain that I was okay... she wouldn't even stop crying at the sound of my voice. Everyone is traumatized, and we're lucky no one died... and you... if you had something to do with this... with Christian crashing- any of it... I need to know."

Even dazed, Adam didn't like what he was hearing. He heard the unspoken implications behind it, and what Gokey was trying to say about him being up in the front of the bus with Christian, who had also been very openly gay. "I—" he began again, but his voice got stuck in his throat. "I didn't..."

A hand brushed idly down over the bandages on his shoulder, but not in the gentle way the nurse or Kris had touched him. Adam couldn't restrain a startled cry. Pain jabbed through his body, playing up and down his back, and tears started in his eyes at the unrelenting sharpness like a thousand tiny needles stabbing into his flesh. He struggled to move away, but his body wouldn't obey.

"Did Kris' wife tell you to back off?" Danny was asking, brutally and uncaringly. Adam winced, knowing that Gokey had never liked him, more like detested him and his chosen lifestyle, but this - why was he doing this? "Why is he still hanging around your bedside then? What is wrong with him?"

Adam was bombarded then with an unclear memory - gentle arms pulling him up, out of the smoky haze... cool, soothing words whispered in his ear and the feeling of safety encircling him. Had that been Kris?

Why was he apologizing and spending so much time around him? Adam didn't understand. He remembered fights, a punch, tears, hurting—

Danny leaned closer, bracing his hands on the pillow on either side of Adam's head, and he was frightened out of his confused thoughts. The part of him long abandoned: the small, scared, insecure young boy heralded as the weird kid at school registered that looming presence and he was that boy again, being harassed behind the bleachers for some ridiculous imagined offense. He jerked away, his breath speeding up, coming too fast - and he was left choking and suffocating, his chest heaving uselessly as he struggled and the machine meant to aid him stole his shallow breaths from his weak lungs.

"And Allison," Danny said in a scathing, contemplative tone. He was watching Adam gasp and fight for air as if it were an only moderately interesting show on TV, and Adam felt a surge of white-hot anger at this. It should have given him unnatural strength and adrenaline, but his head was blank and cloudy and he could barely lift it from the pillow. "She's in critical condition. Maybe even dying. The doctors don't know what to do. Did you know that?" He continued, sounding more sickening to Adam with each word.

Something in him broke. He remembered his hands closing around her arms, his fear, her screaming, a shove, a tumble, and Kris' muffled voice screaming her name, then crumbling and fire and darkness—and how could that be true? How could she be hurt so badly? When he'd done everything he could in the rush of the moment for her, to save her?

What was so terribly wrong with him that no one he loved ever stayed with him, and always left him somehow or another?

"N-no," he whispered finally. Kris had told him that she was fine, hadn't he? Kris wouldn't have lied about that. And he had pushed her out! She was safe, she was okay, she had to be, she had to—his thoughts ran together in a jumbled mess, feeling irrational and misplaced in Danny's angry presence, and he was lost. "No...!" he cried, and tears came to his eyes and even as drugged and weak as he was, he shoved an arm fitfully into Gokeyl's torso, and the other man staggered back.

But he was too tired, and all the feeling drained out of him. He was left shattered and defeated, his breath sobbing in his throat as terror and guilt shook his whole body. "No," he moaned. "That can't be true... I saved her."

Danny took a step forward, all too close to him again. "You failed her," he hissed, and Adam's pain and drug-induced brain took the lie and fed it as reality.

And even though Adam struggled with every fiber of strength he had left, he couldn't escape from that either.

* * *

Kris pulled open the door to Allie's room and stepped inside, glad to see her sitting up, dressed in the white robe all the patients wore and looking more alert, though rather distressed.

"Kris, I want to know what's going on," she said as he walked to her side. "No one's told me much of anything since we got here. Where's Adam? How is he? What's going on? What's happening with the—" a flash of worry tightened her pale features "—the tour? And the media?"

"Hang on," Kris told her with a tiny smile as he sat down in the chair pushed up beside the bed. "One question at a time."

She waited until he was seated, then said, "I want to know, now, Kris." And he knew better than to argue with the look on her face, set and determined.

"All right," He said. "All right. Since late yesterday evening the story the press has taken up has shifted from vague details of a crash to them speculating that I'm seriously injured because of their knowledge of Katy staying here." Kris could feel his voice slur a bit with fatigue, and he cursed his lack of sleep.

She studied his face closely. "But you're okay, right?" she said, and he hesitated, but was forced to nod. "And the others?" she asked.

"Mostly okay. Released, but not really going anywhere since we can't without you," He said, and Allie bit her lip. "The tour?" She asked.

Kris sent her a rueful smile. "Stops postponed for now. They're hoping you're released soon so we can move out of the hospital and spotlight and slowly slip back into the normal schedule."

"I'm feeling a lot better," She said with a bit of a smile, but he saw traces of her tired, pained expression from before hidden deep in her eyes.

Kris smiled back. "Good." Her smile faded, and Kris knew she hadn't forgotten her other question. "How's Adam?" He paused. "Tell me, Kris," she ordered.

He looked down. "He's in the- in intensive care. I—haven't been to see him in a few hours— Katy made me stay away and get some rest... some fresh air - but I've been in there with him several times and he's..." Kris was stumbling over his words, and she reached out and touched his hand.

"I know, Kris," she said. "I know. Is there—" she stopped, her face drawing tight and pale, and he knew what she was trying to ask.

"He's . . . confused," He said, uncertain. "Angry with me. But—"

"You can't give up on him, though," she said, her voice urgent. "He'll forgive you... you guys will work through this, I know you will."

"Allie," He said hopelessly, "He said I hated him. He thinks I don't care."

Her gaze was fearless, and her eyes held his, fiery with passion. "He was hurt and afraid. I know him, and he loves you. It'll work out, I just know it."

Again, the brother-sister bond between them awed Kris. "I wish I had your faith," He murmured softly.

She smiled. "You do, Kris. You saved him, after all. You're the most hopeful of all of us. You just haven't figured that out yet."

He grinned back a bit. "Well, thanks for the little push in the right direction, in that case."

She opened her mouth to reply, but then her face twisted into a yawn. She brought her hand to her face in a slow, tired motion and gave a low sigh.

"Allie?" Kris blurted, leaning over her. "You need a nap."

"Maybe," she smiled, leaning back into her pillows and giving a tiny intake of breath, her eyes drooping. "Give Adam my love—" her hands pulled the sheet up to her midsection and he settled into the bed. "Tell him to quit screwing around and get better already."

He squeezed her hand. "Okay—"

"He needs you, Kris," she told him. "More than he wants to admit right now."

"And I need him." He replied resolutely.

"I'm fine..." she assured him. "I'll just get some more rest. Go to Adam, and I'll be fine—"

"All right. Pleasant dreams." He said blankly.

"Bye..." she whispered and he rose slowly, heading for the door.

"I'm going to see Adam now... she's resting." He told Katy, who was seated in one of the chairs outside, and she nodded, pursing her lips and bobbing her head vigorously.

* * *

He was hit by a wave of wrongness and the odd sensation intensified as he walked down the corridor to reach the room. As he got closer, he felt more and more unnerved— but had no idea why, and it scared him. He quickened his pace, and by the time he made it to Adam's room, he was hustling in stride, and he wrenched the door open, bursting inside. It took him a moment to orient himself, and for one terrible second he couldn't find Adam on the bed and thought he was gone.

But then his eyes focused on the limp body on the floor, and he realized that he had tumbled off the bed. Adam's good arm was bleeding a little from where the IVs had been wrenched from it, and his face, pressed against the cold, unyielding tile floor, was messy and wet with tears. The breath mask had been torn off his face and his breath was coming short and fast, literally groaning in his chest. He was curled up, the blanket unevenly tangled over him, and his body shaking almost convulsively.

Kris threw himself to his knees at his side and gathered him up as gently as he could, careful not to touch anywhere near the bandages and with strength he wasn't aware he possessed, he scooped Adam's fragile yet heavy frame up off the floor and eased him, with effort, onto the bed. Adam gave a tiny, exhausted sob and grabbed hold of Kris' shirt with one hand, making Kris stop in mid-motion, paralyzed by shock. Adam's desperate face met his squarely for the first time in awhile and he asked, voice wavering, "Y-you didn' t lie, Kris, d-did you?" Kris, utterly at a loss, pressed the alert button on the bed to call in the nurse and rested Adam's head against his shoulder.

"What is it, Adam?" He asked desperately, wanting to soothe him. "What's wrong?"

"A-Allie—she's not . . . dying, is she?" His voice was slurred and choppy from the drugs, but the pain in it was clear as day. "Tell me th' truth, K-Kris, please. I saved her... r-right? I must have."

"She's fine, Adam," He answered, baffled. Why would this unreasonable fear have hit him just now? "She's fine. I told you already. She's more worried about you than anything else."

He gave a choked moan. "You're not l-lying?"

"Of course not," Kris replied solidly. He smiled reassuringly down at him. "I'd never lie to you... especially about something like that."

"I had to h-help her," he mumbled, tears still flowing, but more calmly now, and his panic began to fade. "She would've been hurt badly . . . almost was. She was screaming and I . . . I couldn't let t-that happen."

Kris felt his throat close up and bent his head closer to Adam's, hating the fear he saw on his face. "She's going to be all right. She's very tired, but she got a concussion, so fatigue is understandable. The rest is just bruises and scrapes, really."

Adam's muscles were unclenching and his fingers were easing up in their death grip on his shirt. "She's all right..." he whispered to himself, as if reiterating the fact to make it more real.

"Fine. She's fine." Kris repeated, grateful when Stephanie appeared in the doorway, face flashing in concern.

Adam rolled his face into Kris' shoulder. "Everyone l-lies to me..." He muttered strangely.

"I'm not lying to you, Adam," Kris said, perplexed by the statement, but aching for his friend at the same time.

His eyes lifted, stormy. "O-okay. I—I trust you, Kris."

His eyes filled, and Kris could feel a single tear run down his cheek at the sheer wonder of Adam saying those words to him again. He just lay there in his arms, shaking, as Stephanie approached and inserted a new IV, and Kris let him stay there, explaining what he could to the nurse so she could write it in the file while she gently refitted the respiratory machine's mask over Adam's face.

After Stephanie was sure he was ok, she departed to check on Allie, and Kris sighed, shifting his weight so his friend could lean against his arm as he perched quietly on the edge of his mattress. Adam's hand tightened into a weak fist in the fabric of his sleeve, and he pleaded, quietly, his voice like a tiny wisp of sound in Kris' waiting ear, "S-stay."

And he did.

* * *

Kradam's first steps toward repairing their friendship.

Oh, and Danny's an ass, sorry. He gets worse, I'm afraid.

Reviews?


	5. PART 5

Kris managed to fall into a real sleep that night. Sure, it was disrupted slightly by an endless stream of dreams— some memories, mostly of Adam, some of Katy— some distinct and others unclear and hazy.

A slight creaking sound cut through the sleepy fog that had overtaken him, and he rolled over and sat up in the bed Katy had checked out for them, brushing sleep out of his eyes. He sighed and pushed the dreams from his mind as he looked up, seeing Katy was already gone and glancing at the doorway, seeing Stephanie standing there, looking surprised that he was actually asleep.

A sheepish grin decorated her small face. "Mr. Allen?" she said. "I'm sorry to wake you—"

He stifled a yawn with his palm. "I was getting up anyway."

Her skepticism jolted across her face, but she said nothing to retort. Instead her face grew serious. "I was hoping to speak to you," she said instead. Her eyes were serious. Kris saw then that her face was a mask full of concern and anxiety. "What is it?" He asked about five seconds later, when he fully sat up and registered the look on her face.

"Several things," she said slowly. "I was going to check in on Miss Iraheta—would you mind accompanying me? I'll tell you along the way."

"Not at all." Kris fell into step beside her, and they depart from the room. "What things?" He asked her as they moved through the corridor.

She sighed. "Well, for one, I'm afraid Mr. Lambert has taken a turn for the worse."

Kris' heart froze into a chunk of solid ice and leapt into his throat, and his stomach caved out. "W-worse?" He stammered. His voice went suddenly ragged, and he stared at her.

She saw the terrified look in his eyes, and shook her head. "Nothing that bad, only a little bit worse. I guess whatever happened yesterday was kind of a shock to his body, and it weakened him slightly. And falling off the bed wasn't exactly the best thing for him, either. I replaced his bandages, and his burns look noticeably better, but I'm afraid he's slipped back into unconsciousness and he's a bit weaker than the doctors and I'd like for him to be. I don't suppose you have any idea what set him off yesterday?"

"None," Kris said honestly, letting a twinge of relief flood his senses.

She frowned, confused. "You told him Allison was all right earlier?"

Kris nodded. "I don't quite understand it," and he heaved a sigh of frustration. "Maybe he forgot, I mean... he hasn't exactly been fully aware of everything and it could've slipped right past him."

Her frown deepened at that. "I don't know. He's not that clueless to what goes on around him... are you sure you didn't say or do anything to set him off when you visited earlier?"

Kris shook his head. "I don't think so. And there were hours in between the two times I went in there..."

She bit her lip, stopping in the hallway and turning. "Do you think someone else might have . . . said something to him?"

Kris slowed his steps and halted beside her. "Like who?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. But he's allowed visitors now, someone else could've—" She looked down at her clipboard.

Kris' mind immediately jumped through several scenarios, but he still felt sleepy and had a hard time considering each one.

"Was there anything else?" Kris asked softly, finally.

She began walking again and turned the corner toward Allie's room. "I'm also a little worried about her," she said. "She's getting better... but she's still very tired, it seems like she should be regaining her energy faster. I wonder if it's her stress... the fact that she's worried, that's doing it."

"What can we do?" Kris asked quickly. "What can I do?" He'd do anything he could to help her.

She gave me a tired grin and stopped in front of Allison's door. "Well, she and Mr. Lambert are very close, obviously... " she started.

Kris nodded emphatically. "Yes... very close friends."

"And he is obviously worried for her and cares a lot about her as well," She prompted. Kris nodded again.

"What are you suggesting, then?" He mumbled, trying not to yawn.

She grinned. "I bet she wants to see him. I suggest we let her. It might help both of them."

Kris blinked at that. "I—are you sure he's strong enough?"

She sighed. "No. And my supervisor almost said no - but I convinced him, because in the end, we think it would be better for her to see him, rather than not."

Then the door opened, and she was stepping inside, Kris following.

Allison was lying in the bed with her eyes closed, but they fluttered open when they entered the room. Stephanie was right. She looked exhausted. Her eyes looked hollow and her skin was ashen and pale, making the bruises stand out angrily against the contours of her youthful face. "Kris . . ." she said, in a tired, breathy voice. "Stephanie. Good morning."

"Good morning, honey," Stephanie said gently. "How are you feeling?"

Allison blinked, slowly, then tried to sit up, leaning heavily on her pillows. "Fine," she said. "I'm fine. How's . . . Adam?"

"Would you like to see for yourself?" Kris asked, approaching her with a small smile.

"S-see him?" She asked, and light poured slowly into her face. "Is he well enough for that?" Allie asked cautiously.

"He's as well as can be expected... and he's stable," Stephanie replied. "And he's not far. Just down the hallway. Do you feel up to it?"

Allison sat up, a real smile gracing her cheeks. "Of course I do," she said, almost stubbornly. "Kris, help me stand?"

He glanced at Stephanie, and when she nodded, he went to Allie's side as she slid her legs off the side of the bed and he gently lifted her tiny frame until she stood on her feet.

She was leaning heavily on him, and refused a wheelchair as they stepped slowly across the room and out the door, the look on her face determined and nearly haughty. "This isn't so hard," she declared.

But by the time they'd reached Adam's door, her face was shining in exertion and her feet were dragging a bit. Stephanie held it open, and Kris helped her stumble inside and over to the side of Adam's bed. She sank down onto the edge of the bed, sighing.

Kris watched her eyes rove over him, hesitant. "Adam?" she whispered, her voice soft. She reached forward as if she were about to touch his face, hovering over his cheek, but her fingers trembled when she saw the breath mask. She pulled her hand back, swallowing. For a moment, Kris saw fear and indecisiveness sparkle in her eyes, but the rest of her face shone with love and concern. "Wow," she murmured, and looked up at me. "K-Kris—"

He took a step forward and laid a hand on her shoulder, almost like a reflex. "He might not be able to hear you," Kris whispered in sad explanation. "It's all right, though. I know—he does love you."

She took a breath, and smiled bravely up into Kris' face. "I know that," she pointed out, giggling a little.

"Kris?" The tentative voice made him jump, and he wondered briefly if he was really so tired that he hadn't seen Katy standing by the door until just then. He squeezed Allie's shoulder and stepped toward his wife, stopping short of entering the hallway and leaning on the door frame.

"Good morning," he said awkwardly, and her hand found his.

"You brought Allie in to see him?" She asked quizzically, but her eyes were bright.

"Stephanie thought it would be better if they saw each other, at least," He told her, looking over at the two. "I agreed with her." And then Kris realized he hadn't told Katy about what had happened yesterday. "He ... really lost it yesterday... just at the mere thought she might not be okay. And she's been really worried about him."

"Yes." Katy grinned. "I think it's a brilliant idea."

"I wish he were awake, though," Kris added in a voice that was little more than a whisper. "That way he could see with his own eyes that she's fine. She's the one person that I think can give him strength in all this."

Katy peered at him thoughtfully. "I think you're underestimating yourself, honey."

He stared blankly.

"You are more to him than just a friend," Katy said. "You really are like brothers, almost. Don't discount that."

She kissed his cheek playfully and squeezed his arm, and he sighed thoughtfully.

* * *

He vaguely felt a gentle, cautious touch to his aching head, and fingers gently brushing a few strands of hair from his face. His mind tumbled back and floundered in the darkness, but he pulled it away stubbornly, willing himself to open his eyes.

He heard her whispering to him, that voice very clear and distinct to him, but the words jumbled nonsensically. His eyelids heavy, he groggily focused on the tiny hand pressed softly to his cheek. "Adam," came her timid voice, and his breath caught in his throat in a near-sob at the very sound of it. "Adam... can you hear me?"

He rolled his head back slightly until he could see her face, framed by messy red curls, come into view. She looked pale, and very tired, but she was there, she was Allison, she was all right, and this realization made him blink back tears of relief impatiently, for they blurred his sight of her. "Hey... sweetheart," he whispered, the breath mask twisting his words into a ragged and deep sound, unfamiliar and unnatural.

Allison's eyes widened, and her hand jumped from his face. Her gaze met his, and Adam read fear in her gaze.

He felt his heart stop, and then shatter a bit. "D-don't look at me like that, Allie," he stammered, his words falling all over themselves as they struggled to get past his lips. "I—I'm okay—" Pain rose into his perception, and he pushed it away in denial, needing for his words to her to be true. Tears were clinging to Allison's cheeks, and the sight stung him.

"H-how can you be so sure of that?" She whispered in return, and her voice was thick and syrupy, laden with the weight of her tears. "You don't know that..."

Adam tried to shift a bit, so he could look at her straight in the face, and pushed the cobwebs from the corners of his eyes. "N-no, Allison," he gasped desperately, looking urgently at her. "I'm—I'm fine. Really. I was so—I thought I lost you, girl. N-never . . . scare me like that again. Please..."

She pressed a small hand to her mouth and closed her eyes for a brief moment. "Adam—oh, Adam, what's happened to you? Where's the Adam Lambert I know? My big brother?"

"Right here!" Adam's voice shook with emotion, as he replied quickly, the exclamation scraping out of his throat. "I'm right . . . here, Allie."

The outburst was too much for him, the remainder of his oxygen was cut off as the respiratory machine fought to catch up with him. Allison stared at the whirring device in intimidation and fear, eyeing the cords connecting to the mask on his face.

Her hands settled in her lap and he watched him gasp softly. "I—I'm scared," she whispered. "I'm scared, Adam. So... scared."

He struggled to relax, and the breath found him again. "Don't be s-scared... everything's gonna be... fine."

Her gentle fingers rubbed against the skin above the mask, his bruised cheek. "I hope so."

He closed his eyes for a moment and turned away, hating the trepidation in her eyes as she stared at him. "T-thank you... for coming to see me." he mumbled.

"You're welcome," she whispered, voice low.

He forced his eyes open again suddenly, as if remembering. "A-are you... all right?"

"Fine." Allison leaned forward and took his hand in hers, squeezing his fingers reassuringly. "I'm fine." A shaky, gentle grin. "Everything's just fine."

Adam tried not to choke on his faltering sigh of relief, a warm feeling encasing his heart. He fought to lift his arm, weighed down by the tubes and cords running into it, and caught her wrist in his hand, tightening his fingers around it as if to prove he had some strength.

Her other hand closed over his. "Adam—" the name caught in her throat, and he winced at the sound of her voice, tiny and tired. "You need to stop this..." A slight edge of gentle teasing laced her words. "Stop this nonsense and get better... now."

A tiny smirk twisted his lips. "I am. I will... I'm Adam Lambert— it'll take... a whole hell of a l-lot more to bring me... down."

Her mouth broke into faltering smile, the ghost of her usual amused grin. "Of course... I can't believe the awesome power of your name slipped my mind." There was a moment of lapsed silence between them, gentle smiles.

"This thing is scary." Her fingers cautiously traced the breath mask.

"Well—hopefully I won't need... to use it much longer." He replied quietly, "I kind of feel like D-Darth Vader, or something."

Allison was still reluctant to genuinely laugh, but she giggled uneasily and smiled at him. Adam's heart gave a twinge at the laughter, he hadn't heard real laughter from anyone in a while, nor had he laughed himself. He was amazed at the small chuckle that ached in his throat, escaping him in a wisp of air. "How are you feeling, Adam?" Allison asked worriedly.

Adam's answer was to push himself recklessly upward, his arms pulling her to him, and embracing her. Her body was small and warm against his, and even though the action left him feeling even weaker and slightly pained, he smiled. Allison let out a surprised gasp, but hugged him back, grateful for the gesture.

She sighed contentedly and tiredly and let her head drop to rest on his pillow. Her hair spilled against the side of his face and she yawned.

"Everything's... going to be fine," he told her, knowing she was terrified, remembering that she was still a very young girl, and was trying her hardest to be brave.

She nodded her head and sat up. "I know, Adam. I know." She blew out a trembling breath and squeezed his arm. "I know..." She repeated again.

* * *

Katy roped Kris into actually sitting down and eating something with her in the hospital's food area, and despite his ache not to leave my friends, his stomach agreed with her. Stephanie promised to keep an eye on the two of them, and there was no other excuse he could make that would allow denying Katy what she requested… and somewhere deep inside, he was well-aware that he sorely needed to eat something anyway. He couldn't remember the last full meal he'd eaten, his mind a mess with memories and exhaustion.

He needed time with Katy, too.

He'd realized her being with him was soothing. It was something he could no longer avoid out of awkwardness, and had started to cherish again.

"Found time to finally take a break from everything and think about yourself?" She teased as he took a seat beside her, tray laden with a bagel, fruit, and a multitude of food that smelled delicious. He grunted tiredly and took a bite, making her giggle.

"Kris?" Lil and Danny were sitting at the table behind them.

Kris nodded at them. "Hey." "Wow, you finally decided to let the doctors take care of Adam, huh?" Lil added to Katy's sentiment, smiling.

Kris nodded, but caught the strange scowl adorning Danny's face and stopped chewing, bemused. With a difficult swallow, he replied quickly. "Allison's in there with him actually. It's her turn."

Lil's eyes danced with happiness at that statement, and Danny wanted to say something, Kris could tell, but he refrained. Profoundly grateful that he'd not unleashed whatever ignorant, dumbass thing he desired to say, Kris went back to his food.

Katy spoke again, her voice worried. "Look at this." He eyed the newspaper she motioned to, scanning the headline, then reading it aloud in a low voice. "Shocking American Idol Tour Bus Accident Leaves Fans Confused and Worried."

Gokey sat bolt upright in his chair at that. "That's it, we need to get moving. Out of this hospital, away from all this. Our fans are dumbstruck, and I'm sick of this." Lil sent him a weird look across the table.

"We can't," Kris replied, his voice short, and hinging on annoyance. What is his problem, anyway?

He was struck with a sudden memory of Danny's cold treatment of Adam, the silent frowns, hardened eyes, and rigid shoulders that were always there when Adam was in the same room.

"Adam and Allison aren't ready to leave," Katy continued for him, "Both of them are too weak, still. Adam had a bit of a..." She glanced at Kris, who was lost in thought, "...downturn yesterday, but hopefully he'll pull out of that. I bet soon enough they'll be strong and healed to the point where you all can get back on the road. I don't know how soon, but no one does, really."

"A downturn?" Danny repeated, and there was a strange tone in his voice. Kris looked at him—seeing his eyes crackle with something repressed.

"He'll be fine," He reflected out loud. "Just a little shock to his system, that's all. He's strong."

Lil nodded, the worry that had crinkled her brow dissipating, but Gokey was still staring at him in that faraway, odd way, and a spark of annoyance flared inside Kris.

"What kind of downturn?" Danny repeated, sounding vaguely curious, but a frisson of disquiet ran along Kris' spine at the undertones in his voice. "Nothing too bad... I hope?"

"Nothing terrible," He said cautiously, and he as sounded as wary as he felt, but he didn't care. "Not really threatening... just unexpected and unfortunate."

"Hm." Gokey mused. "Well, that's good to hear."

He shifted uncomfortably, not hearing sincerity in the words. "Yes, it is."

"He was more worried about Allison then himself," Danny continued. "Funny, isn't it?" How is that funny? Kris thought bitterly. "—but she's doing better now too, right?—we can leave soon, then. And focus more on figuring out why the hell we even crashed in the first place..."

Kris didn't even want to remark on that, for he couldn't believe Danny cared more about it than Adam and Allison's safety. Again, Katy took the bait instead, and he noted the frustration in her voice, marveling at how she was defending Adam suddenly.

"Why should that matter right now?" She asked him. "What... about—" Her voice broke off, and she shook her head, blond locks bouncing against her shoulders. "—your friends, and their serious medical conditions?"

"Well, of course that's important," he said, stumbling. "I just really want to know why it happened. And how…Christian was a good driver - there had to have been other factors involved..."

A red haze of blanketed frustration swam before Kris' eyes. "I think the problem was purely mechanical, a brakes malfunction, if you want to know my guess."

Gokey nodded, but looked doubtful. "That's possible," he said. "I'd like to know further, however. And Adam was up there with him, I bet he knows something."

For some reason, hot crimson anger filled Kris when Danny uttered his friend's name. "I don't think—" He started, not knowing that his voice had climbed several decibels and his hand had clenched into a fist. He didn't even know what he was going to say.

"Guys?!" Lil piped up quietly. "This isn't helping anything. Please calm down. It doesn't matter right now."

Kris took a deep, steadying breath, feeling the emotion drain away. "Yes, she's right," he added.

"Danny," She continued. "I-I think I'm done eating now." She stood. "I'm sure we'll leave this place soon, but for now, Adam and Allison need us."

"I..." Gokey began.

"That's all there is to it." Kris said tersely, voice gravelly. Gokey fell silent and got to his feet without a word.

But Kris could still see that odd spark in his eyes, and he knew something wasn't quite right.

* * *

Stephanie caught him on his way back to Adam's room. "I helped Allison back to her bed already and... are you all right, Mr. Allen?" she asked softly.

Kris lifted his eyes, realizing she must have noticed the bothered, frustrated look on his face. "Please," He said distantly. "Call me Kris."

She nodded. "Ok. Kris," she said quickly. "Are you all right?"

Kris sighed, nodding. He actually felt steadier and more balanced since he'd eaten a filling meal and gotten some rest, but his head was still full of rushed, jumbled thoughts, and he still ached all over. "I'm fine, Stephanie. Thank you. How did Allison do?"

She smiled a little. "Well, I think. She's resting now, in her own room. I let her stay until the drugs brought Mr. Lambert under again. But they were... well- I think they were very glad to see each other."

He felt a true smile begin to curve his lips. "Well—good. I was hoping he'd wake up and see her. That's—that's good news. And Adam's doing better?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure. I want to stay yes, because he did brighten a little to see her doing well, but I don't know yet. He still seems so... drained."

"Drained?" Kris repeated, the word falling oddly from his lips.

"Yes." She looked at him. "I wonder if you could tell me, Mr. All—Kris." She corrected herself ruefully and smiled. "Do you know the last time he slept? As in without the aid of drugs? Before the crash?"

Kris blinked, thinking of Adam, seated on the couch, his silhouette lit up in the darkness of the wee hours by the blue glow from his laptop. "Slept?"

"Yes," she replied. She looked to him earnestly.

"I... I don't know," He said blankly. "He didn't sleep the night of the accident. I know he fell asleep on the couch during the day, but that can't have been for more than twenty minutes."

"His condition is more like yours than you realize," she professed sadly. "He's been so worn down by exhaustion, plus everything else- I'm surprised he was still thinking straight. Well... I suppose he wasn't most of the time. The drug-induced sleep has helped him a little and the IVs are giving him some strength as well, his wounds are actually healing, but—" She broke off, seeing Kris' worry-stricken face. "I don't know."

It hit him at that moment exactly how stupid, how awfully and ridiculously stupid his interactions with Adam over the past few days had been. Every fiber of his soul ached for him as he remembered his agonizing silences, stress-inducing shouting matches, combined with the lack of sleep, and then the accident, and everything that came along with that.

"Oh my God," He choked. "Can I see him? I-I won't wake him up...I just—" He looked at the floor, suddenly filled with the urgent desire to pour out his heart, to let the tears he'd been keeping at bay fall, to make sure he was at his friend's side.

Stephanie gazed at him for a long moment, reading his face. Then, she answered quietly, voice accepting and warm. "Of course, Kris," she said. "Come with me."

She turned away and he followed her, thoughts whirring in his brain, as she led him to Adam's room and gently eased open the door. "Go ahead," she said, and gestured into the room.

Kris stepped gingerly inside and walked over to stand beside the bed. Looking down at him, he felt as if he were seeing him for the first time in awhile — the angular planes of his cheekbones and the unkempt black hair that fanned slightly against the fabric as he nestled his face into the pillow, the hollow circles around his eyes mirroring Kris' own, the lines of pain etched in the curve of his mouth, and the shadows of bruises splotched on his paled body.

He knelt down and reached out to touch his cheek tenderly, the backs of his fingers brushing the feverish skin, and Kris' eyes prickled; the lump hardening in his throat. "I'm sorry, Adam," he whispered again, but this time, it felt more real. "I'm so sorry."

It wasn't just an apology for the last few days and the fighting; the hell of the accident and the aftermath. It was an apology for Michael, and the parts of society that had never accepted him, and his stress level which had built and taken him over, and Allison, and whatever else had hurt him in his twenty-seven years of life. Because suddenly, Kris wished he had the superhuman power to take it all away.

* * *

Something stirring on the bed woke him, and he lifted his head and blinked sleep out of his eyes, only understanding as he awakened that he had fallen asleep leaned over Adam, his head drooped awkwardly against the hard, plastic bedframe. He straightened, ran a quick hand over his face and tried to pull himself into a coherent state of mind.

"K-Kris?" That confused, still partially hoarse voice was Adam's, and Kris focused on his still form with a jolt. He had turned his head on the pillow slightly to search for Kris' gaze, but his eyes were heavy-lidded he could only make out tiny slits of blue examining him.

"Yes?" He managed to croak. "I'm here, Adam."

His friend blinked, and it seemed to take an eternity for his long, sweeping lashes to settle against his cheeks and lift up again. He rasped, his voice still a quiet mumble. "W-why? Why are you... here?" He took a breath, honest questioning pain in his face.

Damn. Kris tried to think of a fitting way to explain it, and failed miserably. He settled on, "Because... I do care, Adam." And the reply sounded helpless and lost.

A painful, bitter cough of a laugh was Adam's response. "You care..." His voice was rough with stinging sarcasm. His shoulders shook with a hollow sigh. "What about ... Katy?" His voice cracked and broke on her name. "I understand... if you feel guilty... but that's s-stupid, I'm the one who... chose... I w-went up there with Christian,'" His voice was as close to mocking as he could make it sound through the mask. "I get it... don't feel guilty... you can stop worrying a-about being... a bad husband. You don't h-have to come... t' see me anymore."

His words were unadulterated agony to Kris. The darkness, the bitterness in the undertones of his voice, and the fragility of his gaze as he watched him for a reaction.

He was still looking straight at him now, bright blue eyes red-rimmed and lined with fatigue. "'S'okay," he hummed sadly. "It's really... o-okay."

"No!" The word was torn out of Kris' throat abruptly at the pain Adam was causing him. "No, Adam, don't say that. Stop... it's not okay, and I do care... and I'm not staying with you just because I feel guilty, or obligated to."

He closed his eyes. "I... thin' you're forgetting something... it's me or Katy... Kr-Kris. Won'... let me go... but too scared to lose your wife... too." His words were slurring together, tumbled strangely from his lips, and Kris remembered suddenly that on that day he'd spoken the most he had since being put in that bed.

"No, Adam," He replied, scooting closer to him. He reached out gently and took each of his shoulders in his hands, careful of his still-healing burns. "No. I couldn't abandon you or Katy. I should have stood up for you with her when I knew what she was asking me to do was wrong... I should have refused to even have those ridiculously stupid arguments with you. But—but I didn't. I failed you then, Adam. But Katy's accepted that it's wrong and she's very sorry... and I'm very sorry... I love you, and you're my best friend. I'm not going to fail you again." The wealth of this admission and all the weight of it started the tears again, and they fell from his cheeks, salty droplets of moisture raining against the blanket.

Adam looked up at Kris through his lashes. His eyes were still drooping and heavy, but he could see tears pooling there as well, and it quickened his heart. "'M'sorry," he whispered brokenly.

"Why are you apologizing?" Kris asked, sniffling and staring down at him. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Sorry 'bout you and Katy." He explained thickly. "I know you love her - I j-jus' didn't want to lose you... to her. I should've b-been more understanding."

"Adam." Kris said firmly. "It's okay. It's nothing you did, really."

"T-t-tell me—" he couldn't finish, and broke off with a low, tiny moan.

"What?" He asked. "What, Adam?"

"Where's... Allie...?" he asked hoarsely, seemingly impatient with his own weakness. "She's b-back in her room—right?—she's okay...?"

"I promise," Kris said. "She's fine, even a little better now. She was so happy to see you. She's sleeping..."

The smile that curved Adam's lips was almost whole. "And you? Y-you're okay, too?"

His eyes closed, and Kris could feel his arm muscles relax under his fingers where he'd reached down to give Adam a reassuring squeeze.

"Fine..." he started; voice barely audible. "I..." But then he was at a loss for words, his words dying on his lips, as he felt Adam's warm fingers slowly wrap around his, his hand then going so still limp it was nearly lifeless.

"Good..." Adam mumbled, and he was unconscious again.

* * *

One more chapter, and I swear Kradam will have completely made up. You've not seen the last of the fic then, though!! Plot twists a'comin!! :)


	6. PART 6

When Adam awoke, he felt noticeably stronger, and his mind was in sharper focus, enough for him to realize that he hated the hospital. Loathed it. Loathed being in it, and wanted out.

But when she came in to check on him, he reminded himself that he didn't hate Stephanie, at least. Her touch was soft, and the gentle scent of her perfume was somehow comforting. She helped him without making him feel weak and pathetic as she carefully examined him, smiling fully at the improvements, and her hands were sure and steady as she pulled the blanket back up over him to the middle of his chest.

His brain wasn't as fuzzy or blank, but he what he was aware of felt as if it were coming from very, very far away. She grinned and expressed her joy at his slightly bettered state, murmuring softly that she knew he'd start to heal eventually.

Adam couldn't help but think there was something he should remember, something that had happened before he'd blacked out again, but it slipped away from him as he numbly pondered it, and he still felt too bleary to pursue it further.

She didn't hook him back up to the mask, either, and Adam was very glad. He had hated that thing...

And with a tiny smile on his face, he fell into true sleep for the first time in days, peaceful and rejuvenating slumber that made him feel secure and safe, rather than lost and in darkness as the drugs had.

He woke sometime later with a feeling of sharpness, wrongness. It was as if the tentative security that had encompassed him had been broken and the now serrated edges of its remnants were pushing up against the edges of his mind.

Adam moaned and tossed his now aching head, not pleased with the sudden, uncomfortable throbbing in his skull. This tiny movement only served to make it worse, and the pain redefined itself not as a pulsing ache in his head but as a familiarly unwelcome presence in the room.

He bit his lip, wanting to groan, and looked up into the solid, abyssal eyes of Danny Gokey; the man he now realized had lied to him about Allison.

Danny's mouth was twisted into a wry smile. "Feeling better?" he near-sneered. "Enjoy your little nap?"

Something in the expression on his face made Adam want to shudder, but now that his brain felt more functional, he was overtaken instead by anger, a real frustration that was clear and palpable.

"Leave me alone," Adam muttered darkly. He didn't want this. He didn't want the idiot to dredge up the ridiculous subject, those senseless accusations, and scrape them against his already battered heart. He just wanted to go back to sleep, not think about it, not feel anything, and see if some of the broken pieces that remained might tumble back into their shell.

"Oh, poor baby," Danny shot back, words dripping with contempt. "Leave you alone? Like you left Christian alone? The man was trying to fucking drive, and do his job! I don't want to think about what sort of sick, twisted things you two did up there in the front hatch... but look at what a mess you made, Lambert... you nearly killed us all."

Crimson swam in front of Adam's eyes at his words, those false, stinging lies feeding the fury building inside of him. He swallowed the lump that had been growing in his throat as Gokey talked, and it sunk into his stomach, making him feel queasy.

"Christian died... he died! And you survived! How does that make you feel?!!"

Adam squeezed his eyes shut; hearing Christian's startled yell as the chair and steering column impaled him in the wreckage. Kris' panicky breaths and worried shouts; Allison's horrified screams echoed in his ears.

His eyes narrowed as he stared at Danny. Slowly, unsteadily, he pushed himself up on his un-bandaged arm. "What... do you... want?" The question was coherent this time, even if his words were slow and each one of them took a tremendous amount of effort to form. He managed a cold, even tone, not hiding his obvious anger.

The blow to his face was like being hit with a brick. The shock knocked him back onto the bed and made his ears ring. Adam caught himself somehow with a hand on the edge of the bed before he fell off it and lay there, gasping. His teeth had sliced deep into his lip at the magnitude and unexpectedness of the blow, and he could feel blood trickling slowly out of his mouth and down his chin. Infuriation swelled in him like a tidal wave at this discovery.

"You did this... you fucked everything up," Danny said raggedly, and his eyes were filled with tears of anger. "Haven't you seen Allen staggering around this place like a lost soul? He can hardly look at the door to this room! Lil broke down into tears yesterday, because she thought of how she could've been in our bus, could've never seen her babies again! Allison looks as if there is something broken inside her- she's pale and ashen, and she sobs when she thinks of you. Don't you see what you've done? Aren't you ashamed that your failure to contain your sick, carnal urges caused all of this?"

He hit Adam again, this time, an open-handed slap across his face. Danny's words had intensified the anger within him exponentially, to the point where he was momentarily stunned and dazed by the strength of it, and it made his brain wrench and ache.

But the slap brought him back to high school and rejection, and he was not going to let anyone, especially Gokey, push or pull him anymore like a defenseless child. He realized that he had just enough strength to retaliate this time.

"Leave me ALONE!" he cried, the anger spilling from him all at once. It surged around him, and he jerked toward the other man, lifting his balled fist.

It caught the surprised and unprepared Danny and slammed him back against the wall headfirst. He crumpled and fell in a limp heap to the floor, groaning.

Adam collapsed on the bed then, overcome. He could feel the hot tears well up and slip down his cheeks, feel his chin trembling, the blood still trickling gently from his lip. "J-just l-leave... me a-alone," he commanded, the words catching thickly. He felt tired and pained again, but he didn't want to cry anymore, and he tried unsuccessfully to stop himself.

It was then that the memory of the last time Kris had come to see him chose to assault him - the tears, apologies, and gentle clasping of hands. He fell back onto his pillow, watching Gokey's eyes roll back into his head as the emotions flooded back to him, now sharp in the absence of the drugs.

With a sobbing breath, he turned away from the other man, nauseated by the mere sight of him.

* * *

Allison, though almost ready for release, hadn't changed out of the simple white gown patients wore, but Kris visited her right after she'd showered, her damp red hair hung wavy and loose around her shoulders. She smiled when she saw him, sitting up completely straight and adjusting one of her pillows. He took a seat by the side of her bed. "Kris," she said. Her voice was pretty much back to normal, but she still spoke softly, her fear sneaking through. "Stephanie told me that Adam has improved since I left him."

Kris nodded, excited by the news too. "Yes, he did, I saw him after you did and he seemed a little stronger... but she told me that a few hours later, he looked noticeably better." He felt a twinge of relief as he said the words, finally feeling the emotion behind them.

Allison reached out and closed her hand around his. Her grip was tense, and he looked up at her, concerned. "I'm glad, because when I was with him... he—he looked awful, Kris," she said, her voice small. "I was afraid."

A tight knot formed in his throat, and he fought force his words around it. "Me too, I was scared out of my mind," Kris said quickly. "I'm sorry; I know he looked bad. I—I hope you still enjoyed seeing him though."

She nodded her head vigorously. "Oh yeah, I needed that." She took a deep, shuddering breath, and withdrew her hand. "It—it could have been a lot worse, I know." She closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them again, and a sad smile was on her face. "The breathing mask... frightened me, a lot. But Stephanie told me that he's not even using that anymore. His lungs are okay, I guess. They were just scorched and the smoke made it hard for him to breathe." She gave him a wider grin, her courage shining through. "Adam's strong, you know. He'll be totally better soon."

"Yes," Kris replied heartily. "Yes, he'll be... better soon."

Her face turned serious, and he watched the thoughts churn within her until she spoke again. "He was scared too," she murmured. "He looked at first like... like he could just... break, or something. But then he—he hugged me. He was really relieved... I guess he thought I might have been hurt very badly. I stayed until he fell asleep again." She took another breath. "Why did he think I was... not okay? He was so afraid."

Kris shook his head helplessly. "I don't know, Allie. I found him in sort of hysteria earlier. I don't know—" His voice broke. "—but he was so upset, that was when he actually started to talk to me, and let me stay with him."

Allison's face seemed to explode with happiness, her smile overwhelming in brightness. "That's awesome!" She squeezed his hand again, and he could tell she was genuinely excited by the news. Slowly, her grin faded and she lamented, "I guess maybe I understand why he thought I was hurt badly, maybe dying... for a moment there, on the bus, when I thought the fire was going to swallow us both—when I stumbled in there and heard him and heard Christian... heard their yells—I thought I was going to die. It felt—it felt like the world was collapsing, and I just screamed - I saw the roof crumbling and heard the dashboard spark, and Adam... he shouted to me, and his eyes were- I'll never forget what his eyes looked like... I don't know how to describe—and then he pushed me away and you were there, and you told me that I was safe and to hold on, and I knew I was going to be okay."

"Allie," Kris said, feeling breathless. "Adam isn't healed yet. Not completely. And neither are you, you still have to take it easy..."

She shook her head, laughing. "Slow ride..." she sang softly, almost a mumble, "Take it easy..."

He chuckled noiselessly, but his face stayed grim. Allison sighed. "Don't worry so much." She admonished. "Be happy… for just a second. Celebrate that he's doing better.

He stared at her for a moment, hardly able to believe her courage, her faith, and her logic.

And then he tried, really tried to coax up a grin, but he felt empty. Empty and hollow and alone. His hands were shaking. "Kris," Allie said quickly. "Kris, what's wrong?"

The feeling grew and grew inside of him, and he only slowly realized that he was crying. "Oh, Kris," Allie said softly, her thumb moving over to his cheek, wiping away his tears. This gentle gesture and her words broke something inside of Kris, and he collapsed forward, relief tearing itself from his heart and spiraling into his perception.

"He's doing better," He repeated numbly. "He's stronger. I—I—I saw him smile—h-he held my hand. He talked to me." Kris barely felt it her arms wrap around him in a joyous hug. He was lost in dizzing bliss, probably so strong because of how long it had really been since he'd felt happiness. "N-not even needing that stupid mask anymore—n-not even the-the burns are that bad. I—I—I—" His voice shuddered to a stop as he realized himself, and he sat up.

"Kris," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. You've been so good to Adam... and to me this whole time; you're so tired and worn and look at you, now you're crying of happiness."

The door opened, and it slid aside to reveal Stephanie. She gave him a quick, penetrating look that no doubt took in everything from his mussed hair to his glassy eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and decidedly cheerful demeanor. For some reason, she looked sad at this, but then turned to Allison. "Feeling all right today, sweetie? Ready to get out of this room yet?" she asked as she crossed to the other side of the bed, beaming.

"I'm feeling fine, really," Allison responded. "How's Adam?"

Stephanie looked up, her eyes dark. "I haven't been able to check on him since that last time I told you about - my supervisor... something came up," she said. "But remember, he was all right... better than all right." She then looked to Kris, who was astonished at her shakiness. "I... I—I need to talk to you about something."

Feeling a chill of foreboding settle in the pit of his stomach, Kris nodded. "Yes? In private or with Allison?"

She took a deep breath. "In here's fine. My... uh, supervisor was checking over the security records for Mr. Lambert's room and he found a visit from Danny Gokey recorded that we had no knowledge of. I guess Mr. Gokey was not stopped from seeing him, since as one of your party; he's on the list of authorized visitors. This visit was directly prior to the incident in which Mr. Lambert fell off his bed and made his injuries slightly worse. I checked my own records and his file, and between the time before and after Gokey's visit, Adam's vital signs spiked, both heart and breath rates, but they were inside of the acceptable range so the staff wasn't alerted by an alarm or anything. And I watched the video footage of it too. There was no audio, for patient privacy reasons… but we edited the list and we're looking for Mr. Gokey now..." She frowned. "Looks like we know what upset Adam so badly, eh?"

Allie reacted first. "What?" she demanded in a shocked tone. "You think Danny—"

"Adam was terrified that you were dying when I went to check on him, and he had fallen off his bed," Kris told her dully, trying to remain calm. "I had no idea what had set him off like that, gave him that irrational fear." He glanced grimly at Stephanie. "I guess I do now."

Allie took a deep, trembling breath, angry. "Danny told Adam that I was dying?" she whispered, her hands clenching in the blanket that still covered her to her waist. Stephanie nodded glumly. "Oh my God—"

Kris felt detached, like he had been cut off from his body, but hot rage boiled through his veins. His palms were slick with cold sweat and he ground out slowly, "I'm going to kill him."

"Kris?" He couldn't even tell if that had been Allie or Stephanie's voice, his blood was pounding so hard in his ears.

He turned away and took a steadying breath, trying to regain control. His breath blew out slowly in a sigh. "We can't let him get away with this," He said, turning back to face them, forcing calm into his voice.

"You're right, we can't," Stephanie said, low and serious. "My supervisor's going to find him and have him removed from the premises. He's not allowed in the facility anymore."

Allison nodded. Her face was tight and set. "Good riddance."

* * *

"I think we should check on Mr. Lambert together," Stephanie proposed quietly as they stepped out of Allison's room, mood solemn. "Or maybe you should go talk to your wife."

"She used the car to take Megan and Lil out shopping, insisted they needed some time away, and she wanted to help." Kris acknowledged softly, his mind spiraling out of focus with anger at Gokey. "She's not here."

"Then, please... come with me. It'll give you some time to cool down and get... things back under control, Kris. You're shaking."

He took a deep breath, frustrated, and thought for a moment. "Yes," He agreed grudgingly. "You're right. I'll come. If Adam really is feeling better, I'd like to talk to him about this Danny thing, anyway," He added thoughtfully, the memory of Adam shaking and frantic rising in his mind unbidden.

"He was feeling a lot better," she started hopefully, her mouth beginning to curve in a slight smile, "It's amazing. I was worried about his lungs at first, but he's off the respirator, and his burns aren't all too bad anymore." Her voice conveyed her excitement and her smile widened. "He seemed brighter, and he's only on basic pain medication now, no heavy sedatives or anything. He also seemed stronger— and when I left him, he'd fallen asleep naturally, so obviously the shock of his injuries has eased quite a bit. I'd be willing to bet on a complete recovery fairly soon."

"Really?" The word slipped out before Kris could help himself, and he could hear his voice trembling with suppressed, thick, happiness. "That's incredible news."

They were at the door to Adam's room then, and he gently eased it open, not wanting to wake him up should he still be sleeping. He was bewildered when that strong sense of awful wrongness hit him again, and he nearly staggered back, for it was such a contrast to the joy he'd just been feeling.

Mind churning, his eyes focused on Adam at once. He was lying on his stomach on one side of the bed, the sheet twisted strangely around his legs. His lightly-bandaged shoulders were shaking and the fingers of his slightly injured arm had seized the edge of the bed so tightly his knuckles were whiter than the walls of the room. His muscles were taut and straining, standing out through the wispy sleeve of his hospital gown all the way up his arm to his shoulder.

Stephanie gave a quick glance to the monitor by his bedside that kept track of his vital signs, then practically ran to the bed's other side to examine him. As she did so, Kris was taken aback by a low groan, in a voice much deeper than Adam's.

Danny Gokey was only now sitting up, holding a hand to the back of his head. Kris' eyes widened at the sight of him, sprawled against the corner. The entire right side of his head was swelling into dark purple bruise that looked painful, black-splotched and gruesome.

Crimson anger danced before his eyes. He moved forward, his hands closing around Gokey's collar before he realized what he was doing. "What did you do to him?!" He shouted furiously, voice wavering. "What the fuck did you do to him?!"

There was a small hand on his arm suddenly, drawing me back. "Kris," she said. "Don't. I pushed the alert button, security's coming. This won't do us any good, all right?"

Clarity returned to him, rushing in waves. He took a deep breath and let the larger man sag back against the wall, glaring at him.

Kris felt sick, his breath coming in uneven gasps. "Tell me, Danny," He pronounced more calmly. "What did you do?"

"Do?" Danny growled, touching his face stiffly. He stared down at his hands and the blood drying in between his fingers. "I didn't do anything—that stupid fag threw me into the wall!"

Kris stiffened at the insult to Adam, but Stephanie's sharp intake of breath made him stop what would've been a lunge forward.

Danny's eyes glowered at him. "And then you come in here and think you can toss me around—who the hell do you think you are?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but the sharp-tongued nurse at his side beat him to it. "I can't believe this," she burst out. "You couldn't act like an adult instead of a posturing adolescent?! Do you think threatening my patient will solve anything? You could be charged with assault!" She gave Kris a look that said, Don't worry, he'll be punished for this... and went to kneel by Danny's side with a long sigh. "Do you think you have any serious injuries?"

When he replied his tone was slow and sullen. "No."

"Excellent," She replied briskly, reaching down and bracing her hands under his shoulders. "All right then, up you get." She half-pushed, half-pulled Gokey to his feet, and then two armed security guards burst into the room, and she handed him off to them. She turned to Kris. "Adam should be okay - looks like he defended himself from anything really bad," she whispered quickly. "I have to go to my supervisor—" And looking quite worn, she quickly followed behind the security team.

Kris stepped over and knelt by Adam's bed, staring down at him. He could hear each shuddering breath Adam took, and the unsteady little sniffles that came in-between. Some of the bandages on his back had been torn away slightly, and Kris eyed the somewhat healed skin underneath that was partially visible.

Judging by his lack of response, Adam didn't seem aware that Kris was standing over him. Kris reached down and pressed his hand lightly against the uninjured part of his back, trying to be as gentle as possible...

He jerked and became a flurry of panicked motion, until he had rolled away from Kris and lay trembling in the middle of the bed. "K-Kris?" His voice was no longer as hoarse as it had been and purely, recognizable as Adam. His tone however, sounded uncertain and small. "I-is that y-you?"

"Yes," Kris said quickly, aching with anger. "Yes, it's me." He struggled to swallow as his eyes traced the tracks of the tears on Adam's cheeks. He could see the evidence then — Adam's eye was bruised, blue, and puffy, mottled with swelling. The skin directly over his cheekbone was scraped open and his bottom lip was split and bleeding. That hadn't been there earlier from the crash; it was fresh blood smearing down his chin.

And Gokey had said he'd done nothing. Kris took a deep breath, feeling the rage climax in a rush. He closed his eyes for a moment, counting to five slowly, before opening them again.

Adam was staring wordlessly at him. He flinched as Kris reached out to touch his shoulder and swatted his arm away. "No," he coughed. "I—I don't need your help."

"Adam," Kris was baffled, "Don't be ridiculous." He tried again, and Adam moved away on the bed, eyes flashing.

"N-no," he repeated. "Leave it, Kris. Please..."

Drained and defeated, Kris sighed. "What do you want me to do then?"

Adam swallowed thickly. "You don't have to do anything." He shook his head then, faltering. "I don't need help... I should be strong enough—I'm not weak, I'm... Adam fucking Lambert—" His voice was morose, needing some sort of reassurance, but the undertones Kris didn't fail to pick up on screamed Adam and it was almost delightful to hear such familiar personality in the words, even if only vaguely.

"I'm not going to leave you," He told him, and he watched Adam's mouth settle into a grim, frustrated line as Kris took up a tissue from the table at his bedside and ran it carefully across his lip, wiping away the red, sticky liquid as gently and as best as he could. Then Kris steadied Adam's tensed body against the pillows so that he was supported somewhat more comfortably.

"I said... don't help me," he whispered evenly, frowning.

"I know," Kris replied. "But I couldn't just not do something."

"Yes you could..." Adam's voice dropped an octave. "You could step back and let me deal with it... because I'm s-strong enough. I've had to take shit like that my... whole fucking life, I'm d-definitely strong enough!"

"Adam..." He started to respond.

"Seriously." He cut Kris off, and sat up straighter, sighing. "Y-you're going to say something about how I'm your best friend, and you just want to h-help me—but you don't have to say anything... don't you understand? I fucking a-already know I'm your... best friend! I'm aware that you care, I see that—and I wish... I wish I knew why the hell I can't stay m-mad at you!" His voice was wavering and thick, and Kris stared, not knowing what to do.

"Adam—" He knew full well that he had to say something, but he had no idea what to say.

"Stop it, Kris." he nearly growled, eyes sparkling. "You... always c-cared about me, always. You p-pulled me out of that bus, for fuck's sake... I was just... too stupid to r-recognize it..."

"You were too stupid?" Kris repeated, incredulous. "Adam, you were right to be unsure of my loyalty to you, I messed up! I was the stupid one... I just wanted to save my marriage, and I almost ruined everything. It was me—"

Adam gave a sudden grin. "You? Fuck-it-all, Allen, I already forgave you for t-that shit... didn't you listen?" The frenzied words sounded as if they were torn from a laugh, and Kris froze as he took that into account.

"Is Katy okay... with you taking all of this back?" Adam asked suddenly, voice low, not noticing how Kris had practically stopped breathing at his side. "Because... if I just poured my entire heart out to you for nothing, I'm going to throw YOU into that wall."

"She's sorry, she feels awful and everything," Kris managed to gasp. "I told you, Adam. You were—you—" He trailed off, floundering for words, and took a breath. "Y-you m-m-mean you're not mad at... me anymore?"

Adam's smile was almost warm and full, his eyes filled with what appeared to be mirth and sparkle, and his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Kris' face. "I tried," He breathed. "I told you, Kris... I'm t-trying to stay mad at you and I-I can't." Kris braced his hands against the side of the bed and stared down at Adam, amazed. "I—I wanted to... for awhile there." His fingers clenched into a weak fist and he examined his knuckles. "I wanted to—hate you. I wanted to... to hurt you, knock your lights out...I should have. But I—I couldn't."

"I fucked up so badly, Adam," Kris said, not believing his ears. "I nearly ruined our friendship and lost you... I flipped out and punched you in the face. I hurt you... I didn't even think properly, and I feel like such an idiot. I almost destroyed one of the most precious relationships I have. How can you still forgive me so easily?"

Adam stared at the hot wetness rolling down Kris' cheeks rapidly. "I can forgive you," came that same voice, the voice of the Adam he remembered, "Because I love you, Kristopher. You're so damn... a-adorable and am-mazing, and I don't even know... how the hell I managed to stay pissed off at you this long." His voice broke, and Kris could hear the remnants of a laugh rise into his throat again near the end of his statement.

He raised his hands and rubbed the tears from his cheeks, astonished. "How are you so fucking awesome?" He asked. "I—I don't understand. I really don't. You're incredible, and I know it sounds like something a fan-girl would scream at you... but it's true."

"I was born that way, of course," Adam murmured his answer, leaning back into his pillows with a small sigh, and bringing a hand up to poke curiously at his swollen eye. "And you'd - ow - better quit rambling on me, Kris —you're right that—that was a major fan-girl moment—I always knew you w-were a screaming.... fainting, crying Glambert... in secret."

He was smiling, eyes closed as he spoke, a beautiful grin that handsomely decorated his battered face, and Kris couldn't do anything but stare at him blankly. Then Adam's teasing reply fully clicked in his brain and he scowled. "What?" The words burst forth from his lips in a haughty exclamation. "Adam, I—first of all, I'm not crazy like a large percentage of your fan base is... you know most of them are girls that think you're the encyclopedia definition of sex!"

"Okay now... I'm getting angry again." Adam answered darkly, without opening his eyes. He looked vaguely exhausted but his lips were twisted in a smirk. "Don't get all... j-jealous on me, Kristopher Allen... just because I bat for... the other team doesn't mean I'm not allowed... to have women falling all over me. I am the en-encyclopedia definition of sex... and if you have a problem with that... I suggest you take it u-up with Britannica."

Oh, it felt so good to joke with Adam again. It was almost too good to be true.

"Shut up!" Kris shouted playfully, glaring down at him and reinforced it with a scoff. He could see Adam's eyes snap open and they were twinkling mischievously.

"Watch it, Allen," He said, stifling a yawn. "I can take back that... that truce just as easily. I wasn't even aware... that your cute, cuddly persona was c-capable of indulging... in the envy complex. I'll have to remember that, it might come in handy later."

"Oh, haha." Kris mumbled dryly, but he couldn't wipe the grin from his face.

Adam laughed again, the delightful sound echoing through the room. Then he broke off abruptly, his breath catching in his throat. He coughed, and gasped. "Fuck," he moaned. "Stop making me laugh... dammit—that hurts like hell."

That was enough to make Kris calm considerably, and he sat in the chair by the bed, all anger at Gokey briefly forgotten. Adam's still vulnerable condition began to betray itself in tiny lines of pain etched in his face, the faltering rise and fall of his chest, and the tiredness now shining in his eyes.

Kris suddenly marveled that Adam was able to reciprocate against someone attacking him. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke. "Thank you, Adam... I can't even believe... I mean, you did nothing but love me, and be such a good friend to me, and I turned on you, you know? I feel awful still... and I doubt I'll ever forgive myself for nearly losing you as a friend. And this... damn it... you've been worrying me sick, Lambert, you know that? Are you proud of yourself now, huh? Does it feel good to know that you scared the shit out of me?"

He smiled tiredly in response, humming thoughtfully.

"Just keep this up, all right? Don't fuck around anymore, I'm not playing." Kris chided gently. "It's time for you to get better. We have a tour to do."

Adam winced. "Ugh, the thought of singing on stage... never was so uninviting and... besides, I went and s-sprained my ankle like a dumbass... so no platform glitter boots." Real sadness twinged in his words, and Kris chuckled.

"Oh, that's right... well, that's out of the question then. If you hobble around with one leg wrapped up, your dancing'll look worse than Sarver's."

Adam cursed, and flung a lazy arm at Kris, brushing his arm in an attempt to slap him playfully. "My dancing could NEVER look as bad as Sarver's." Kris laughed loudly, and it felt so good that he continued, until tears streamed down his face.

He idly thought of how much he'd cried lately and how he'd have a terrible headache later from it all, but at that moment, he didn't care one bit. Before he could comprehend what was happening to him, he was a sputtering, teary-eyed mess at his friend's bedside, suddenly unsure what emotions were flowing out of him, but knowing it was many at once.

"K-Kris," Adam whispered. His hands were shaking as he reached over to the other man, staring in a bewildered fashion at his cheeks: messy, wet and hot with tears. He bit his lip against the pain as he sat up again and leaned toward Kris slowly, his strength fading, but his eyes fiery with emotion. "Kris—"

Kris turned to him, and he was unable to speak. In Adam's blue eyes all he could see was his best friend and brother, staring at him, and it made him want to cry harder. Adam reached out, ignoring the blurry spots beginning to interfere with his vision as his weakness ebbed back into him from the exertion of the day.

He pulled Kris into his arms almost instinctively, as he'd done with Allie. He gave a shuddering breath and buried his face into Kris' shoulder, his one stronger arm encircling his friend with the little energy he still had.

"I'm sorry," Kris apologized raggedly again, his voice breaking. He could feel the still-shuddery breaths that fought through Adam's lungs, and his own arms clenched around his companion. "I—I'm so sorry, Adam. I—I've done...such things..."

"Yes, Kris," Adam confirmed quietly, voice low. Kris knew it hurt Adam to be holding him so close, to be held so tightly, but he wasn't letting go, so neither did Kris.

Adam rested his chin on Kris' small shoulder and fought to speak past the tears that were coursing down his face as well. "You have... but I forgive you. I'm here with you... and I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

KRADAM HAPPYTIMES! But dammit, Gokey... must you ruin everything?

There's a lot more fic left, people. This ain't over yet.


	7. PART 7

Thank you so much for the kind reviews, everyone!

-------------------

He had never seen someone like this.

He realized this as he sat silently by Adam's bedside, long after his friend had drifted into sleep, and Katy had come searching for him. He'd explained what had happened, between Danny and Adam, and afterward, and a genuine grin had graced her face when she told him to stay with Adam, but made him promise to get some sleep later. A kiss was placed to his reddened cheek as he continued to watch his friend quietly, and she waggled her fingers happily, departing.

He had even seen Adam weakened before, over the time they'd spent together, though he would have hotly denied it, most likely.

First in the stressful days of March, when those photos had leaked, worrying Adam more than he immediately would admit to.

Once or twice during the competition, when he was tired and worn by the strain of it all, as they all became at some point, and his eyes were weary, his steps dragging until he could find some available source of caffeine.

One time, when Gokey (the thought of him sent a flash of anger through Kris) had said something to Adam, something stupid and well, fully understandable coming from an asshole like him, Adam's eyes had drained of life and his face went blank, a chilling sight to Kris.

When he had won, after Seacrest's announcement, Adam's eyes had sparkled with pride and joy through the nearly staggering tiredness hidden by makeup caked under them.

But he had never before seen someone like this, his face pale and lacerated, his body stricken weak and hurting. He had never experienced an event like this that had shattered everything and left him without a clue as to how to go about repairing it, never come this close to losing someone close to him unexpectedly, never felt the stress of a situation overwhelm him and practically tear him to bits.

And, truth be told, he'd never known someone quite as vibrant and full-of-life as Adam, which made this all the more strange. Adam's previous interactions with him had made him seem a lot stronger to Kris, as if he were suddenly healing in a much quicker way, but he could tell now that his friend was still ailing, still in pain, and still weak. His breath was still a little shaky and caught a bit deep in his throat, and the nerves throughout his body reacting to his pain made him quiver a bit at each exhale. It wasn't a stark or obvious sort of shaking, more of an uncontrollable shudder that seemed slip through a wall left unguarded, between still-hoarse pants for breath.

His skin was hot, and it trembled when Kris gently rubbed his arm. He smelled of antiseptic, and was in a sort of deep, healing sleep that rendered him almost lifelessly limp. Kris murmured words of comfort to him all the same, assuring him that everything was fine, that he was never going to lose him again, not ever. He said this, even though the words he spoke weren't completely sincere, for his still feared and worried for his friend despite the apparent changes for the better.

Visiting hours were coming to an end too quickly, and the light outside the window as beginning to fade. Kris was just starting to contemplate going back to bed, snuggling in next to Katy - who was probably tired as well from her long day of entertaining Lil and Megan - he thought blandly, and dropping into a wonderfully calm sleep at the prospects he faced - Adam's reacceptance of him, the end of the battle to win him back. But then Adam stirred, moaning a bit in his sleep.

Kris started, staring down at him, concerned. His friend's mouth twisted into a grimace of pain and his fingers closed around a clump of the blanket, clenching tightly.

"Adam," Kris murmured, reaching down and patting the un-bandaged part of his shoulder softly. He winced and mumbled something incoherent, eyelids fluttering, and turned away from Kris. "Adam, look at me."

His obedience was another miracle on the long list of them Kris could count from the day, but he shook his head and blinked tiredly, his swollen eye considerably puffier and darkened. "I'm sorry, Kris," he mumbled. "Go—go to bed—" Kris' eyes filled again but he blinked the tears back. "I'm ok... I-I'll be fine." Adam tried to smile and failed, the twinges of pain in his voice couldn't be completely disguised.

"Not yet," Kris told him, managing a smile of encouragement. "Let me stay with you, I don't want to leave."

He cringed again, the lack of heavy pain medications apparently catching up to him now. Cautious misery written plainly on his face, he continued, "It looks b-bad now, huh?" he whispered, his voice rough and uneven. "I hate this—not looking like myself—f-feeling like myself." His voice broke a bit. "Making you all worry so much... I have never s-seen you cry like that—"

Kris braced his fingers in his hand and told him earnestly. "That was out of relief and... well, happiness. And tiredness, too, I guess. Not out of sorrow." Not anymore.

"I—I don't believe that," he said, doubtful.

Kris gave his hand a squeeze. "It's true," He told him fiercely, even though it wasn't completely, he had felt fear and dysphoria in that cascade of emotions earlier.

"You're lying to me..." Adam accused quietly. Then he sighed, a wisp of air. "B-but that's okay... I forgive you... again." The hints of a smile appeared at the corners of Adam's mouth.

The words stirred Kris' emotions again and his mind awakened, awash in thought. For a moment Adam's eyes slipped closed, he took a sharp intake of breath, and something briefly beeped on the monitors ahead— Kris panicked for a second, until Adam's serene face reappeared and the shrill alert stopped.

Something hit him randomly and he dropped Adam's hand. "No..." he said wildly. "No, Adam, it isn't right!"

He blinked, confused and weary. "What?"

"You should—hate me!" he burst out, rubbing his hand across his face. "You should be so pissed off at me... want to hurt me, like I h-hurt y-you."

Adam blanched, reeling back and coughing roughly before replying. "Please, Kris." His eyes were desperate. "Please, not the guilt trip, n-not again... I don't want to.... —"

But Kris shook his head, realizing now that Adam's quick forgiveness felt utterly wrong and unfair to him. He tightened his grip on Adam's hand, so much so that he gave a tiny gasp of surprise at the sudden pressure. "No... it's not right," Kris insisted. "It doesn't feel right."

"You made... a mistake. But you—you won't do it—ever again," Adam whispered slowly, "And I-I forgive you, I really do—you.... you fucking saved my life, f-for God's sake—and you and Katy are fine and—please, Kris, don't do this, don't m-make this harder... so hard on yourself—"

"Adam," Kris said through the lump tightening his throat, and he released his friend's hand feeling bad when he discovered how tightly he'd been holding it in his outburst.

But whether he was too lost in pain to hear him or just wasn't listening anymore, he had turned away, eyes shut tight, fatigue plain in his voice. "Stop it Kris— stop this right now; it's over and i-it's done— I accept your apology — and I t-think it's time you.... you consider forgiving yourself—"

"I can't... " Kris said solemnly, and Adam faced him again, eyes churning.

He reached out with a shaking hand, and closed his fingers around Kris' forearm as firmly as he could, face serious and tight. "Don't d-do this to yourself." He pleaded.

The door swished open and Katy stepped inside, probably to tell Kris that visiting hours had ended - and relief swept over Adam's face in a rush. "Katy..." He gasped out. "Help me."

She took one look at the situation and quickly crossed over to Kris' side. She put her hand on his shoulder and he didn't react. "He's so stubborn, isn't he?" she said softly, winking at the other man.

Kris bristled at her touch, still looking at Adam. She sighed. "I can have Stephanie sedate him, if you want." She suggested to Adam quietly, smiling. "She's been threatening to ever since he first arrived. It might be the only way we can get him to stop being so thick-headed. And he needs rest."

Adam shook his head; a shadow of a grin flitting across his pale face, then stared hard at Kris. "Kris," he said resolutely. "Kris, look at yourself... you're - you're wavering on y-your feet. Stop whining and g-go to bed."

Kris looked up blearily, suddenly feeling bad. "I'm sorry..." he said distantly.

"Please Kris, listen to Adam," Katy whispered soothingly, and brushed her fingers through his hair. "You need to quit beating yourself up and get some rest."

Adam gritted his teeth suddenly and sagged against his pillows, some phantom pain eating away at him. His eyes shut for a long second before he snapped them open again, and hid the expression that had appeared on his face. "Please," He begged Kris, in a wavering, desperate voice, then patted Kris' arm before letting his hand fall flaccidly to land on the blanket.

Katy's mouth was compressed into a thin, tight line that meant she was somewhat frustrated, but her eyes remained on her husband, glowing with concern. She stepped over and took Kris' arm where Adam had been squeezing it. "Come on, sweetie," she said delicately, and tugged at him gently. "Adam will be fine. You can come back to see him first thing in the morning."

Adam nodded at her words and smiled at his friend, and the look on his face hit Kris like a strong wind, sending all of his exhaustion, emotionally drained thoughts and lack of energy to the forefront. Kris tilted his chin at Adam before grinning back weakly, finally accepting the start of the mending of their friendship. Katy led him silently from the room, and he didn't look back.

-------------

Katy's promise failed him. When he woke up and managed to eat a bagel and have some coffee, mind still churning, he was whisked not to Adam's side but into a hushed meeting with the producers of the tour.

Word of Danny's actions had spread fast among the other contestants, and Allison, who was to be released from care that afternoon, took the liberty to explain what had happened before to everyone, and then the second time (she'd been filled in by Katy).

He was sick of telling the story. Kris hated the thought of lingering on Gokey anymore, and wanted so badly to instead check up on his friend. But his sense of duty propelled him to obey the call.

"Go visit Adam for me, please?" Kris asked Katy when they were done eating and she smiled at him sympathetically.

"Of course, baby," she said. "Of course I will."

He was overwhelmed then by a rush of love for his wife, and he smiled in true relief, feeling her squeeze his hand before quickly starting off down the corridor to Adam's room.

His heart had lurched at her words, and he shook his head, grinning. Then, he wiped the sleepy fog from his eyes and began walking in the opposite direction to meet the producers in the waiting room.

They were there, waiting, as promised. Three professionally dressed men in identical suits looked up when he approached, smiling politely. He froze for a moment, realizing distantly that he couldn't get his fuzzy brain to produce any of their names. Then the discussion was underway, and Kris sat, only half-listening.

"Mr. Gokey's actions were cowardly and dishonorable." One man was saying. "We've decided to let him finish out the tour, but dropped any of his possible pursuits of a record deal with 19E."

This caught Kris' attention, and made him straighten in surprise. He couldn't disguise the wave of satisfaction that rushed through him, thinking to himself that Danny deserved that, and probably more. Grudgingly, he mulled over the other half of their decision, wincing as he imagined having to be around him for the rest of the tour. He ultimately nodded his approval to the men, clasping his hands together in his lap.

"Mr. Lambert is still fragile. Not only did Mr. Gokey's interference endanger the reinstitution of the scheduled tour stops, but his personal safety. Technically, legal action could be taken against him for it, but it's unclear if that's the route to take."

Kris couldn't help but want Danny to be punished for what he'd done, but he wasn't sure if a legal mess would be what Adam wanted. Maybe simply dropping Gokey like a hot potato from even being associated with the show anymore, from getting a deal... was punishment enough.

He could feel the fury rising within him again, as he was slowly forced to recount the incident to them, but this time he was better prepared for it, letting it ebb away after the words had been spoken. Then he voiced his thoughts on the matter, wincing at the strange strain on his voice.

"At least Mr. Lambert was strong enough for his own self-defense." One of the men mused, when Kris had finished. I don't envy Gokey for those bruises he's got, he thought in agreement. "He wants to talk to you."

Kris was shocked. Danny... talk to him?

"I don't know if that's a good idea." Was his reply. He felt like strangling the man, and the last thing he wanted was to talk to him.

"Mr. Allen..." One of them looked at him seriously. "He's essentially being sent packing once you all finish the tour. You never have to see him again if you don't want to after that. But perhaps you should let him say whatever he wants to say to you. Maybe he is remorseful. It might make the rest of your time with him more tolerable."

"Whatever." Kris spat. "If you want me to, I'll speak with him. Later today, outside the building of course."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Allen, we appreciate your thoughts."

* * *

Allison, out of her room and walking around, found him as he wandered back through the corridors. Her face still had some tiny remnants of weakness and she looked a little tired, but Kris couldn't help but grin at the sight of her. With a tight, tiny smile, she stepped over to him. "Kris," she said. "Glad to see me?"

"Definitely," He replied quickly, hugging her. "Thank you for telling the others about Danny... I already had to tell the whole story again just now to the producers. And I guess I have to talk to him later, actually." He swallowed hard and tried to focus, ignoring any lingering anger. "I don't like to think about it."

She frowned. "Yeah..." she muttered. "I can't believe he'd do that to Adam - I would go visit him, but my parents will be here any minute, they're taking me out for awhile to get some air... they want to see me again - how is he?"

A full-fledged smile danced across Kris' cheeks then, and he didn't hold it back. "Oh, Allie- he forgave me... I can't understand how he could've, but he did. We're okay now, I think. He's a little better—I—I mean, Danny —uh, gave him a couple new injuries, and he's still pretty weak, but he is getting better... at least I hope so."

Allison hugged him again. "Good for you two. I knew you'd work whatever that was out eventually."

Kris smiled softly and hummed in response.

"Tell him I love him and to keep getting better," She murmured.

"All right," Kris replied, and she beamed, before heading toward the waiting room.

Kris hurried to Adam's door, stopping just short of it when he heard voices inside. Curious, he froze, listening.

"Enough..." Adam's soft, breathy voice was difficult to hear. "You don't need to keep... apologizing, Katy. You w-were scared, you obviously l-love... love Kris a great deal. It's okay... I forgive you, and Kris."

"He deserves the forgiveness... I'm not sure if I do," Came Katy's miserable reply. "It's clear to me now, that I was being stupid and jealous and I didn't stop to think about how I'd hurt you, even how I'd hurt him."

Kris took a deep breath as love swelled within him again. So Katy had indeed gone to see Adam, and she got a chance to finally act on the guilt he knew had been burdening her. Adam, of course, was accepting her apologies, despite everything.

He closed his eyes for a moment, hand on the doorknob.

"Katy..." Adam continued quietly. "It's over and we... we c-can move on now. You need to accept my f-forgiveness and stop feeling bad." There was a painfully long pause.

"You... and your husband are a lot alike i-in that respect." Their conversation continued, and Kris, with a tiny smile on his face, drew back and walked away.

He'd visit Adam later.

* * *

Much sooner than he would've liked, Danny Gokey was staring at him with a look of deep-seated annoyance on his face. "Why are you late?" he demanded.

"Well, I was going to visit Adam," Kris replied crisply. "But Katy's with him right now, so grabbed another coffee and talked with Anoop and Matt for awhile about his condition."

Danny looked away, the muscles clenching in his jaw.

"A condition that you helped put him in," The anger not lost in the words, Kris bit each one out slowly, restraining himself. "You saw him, Danny; saw the state he was in. And you had to torment him further?"

"I was suspicious. He had something to do with that crash, I know it. He and Christian, alone up there? I don't trust him, Kris, and I can't help not trusting him, knowing him and how he's... well, knowing the way he chooses to live his life. Do you not see how that's wrong?"

Kris stared at him, eyes hardened. "Adam didn't do jack shit to cause that accident," he answered coolly. "And yeah, he's different, he's gay, and that may be a fucking problem to you, Danny, but I frankly don't care. He is my best friend, my brother. And I am sickened by what you did."

"I don't understand you, Kris," He murmured in reply.

"The feeling is entirely mutual," Kris bit back, irritated. "It's even clearer to me now that you are an ass." He added that bit for good measure.

"You know," Gokey said strangely. "You and I... we have more in common than you think."

"I beg to differ." Kris was quick to respond. "And I'm glad. I don't want to have much in common with a bully who attacks people when they're wounded, or someone who sees Adam's lifestyle as immoral and wrong." He was deeply offended at Danny's words.

"You and I both love music and our wives and families," Gokey pointed out, as if desperate to find some common ground, to leave Kris forever with something tangible about him that wasn't negative. "I admire and your devotion to what you do and how you treasure your relationship with Katy. But I cannot grasp your acceptance of Adam— I just can't—you understand—and I never will be able to."

"I understand your limitations and how in your ignorance, you'll likely never become a man of honor." Kris told him angrily. "But what I cannot understand is— is your callous cruelty to Adam... your needless brutality to him... especially considering he's barely recovering from this awful, life-changing event and was already injured seriously! I can't accept that, or your stubborn determination to adhere to some ridiculous personal code... something that forbids you from seeing what brilliant person Adam is."

Gokey visibly stiffened. "I know he means a great deal to you - and though as I said, I can't understand that - I realize this incident... and his condition has really hurt you, and I sympathize with that." His gaze softened a little. "He's obviously your friend. And I made a mistake - one I can't take back, that has probably ruined my potential for a career doing what I love."

Kris felt little sympathy for Gokey's plight, but bit down on his initial reply. "I am deeply in love with Katy, and I cherish what we have, as you said, but not at the cost of my friendships. It is a shame that you have made it so you won't be able to benefit much from this platform - your fans will be disappointed- but I don't think I can forgive you for what you've done."

He could see the rebellion in Danny's eyes. He swallowed hard and looked away. "You are my superior, Kris, by virtue of talent, potential in the music industry, and your rank as the American Idol. I respect that. And I understand that you can't forgive me." He took a deep breath. "I am sorry for my actions, though. It—it was wrong of me. I will not lay another hand on—on—" His throat constricted. "—on Adam, and you both never have to even see me again once this is done. My emotions got the better of me, and I let them lead me into... well, I got carried away. I apologize for my... my lack of control."

You're just sorry it came back and bit you in the ass. Kris thought bitterly, before stating calmly, "It's Adam who needs your apology. Not me."

Danny wouldn't meet his eyes. "I can't even go in the building. That apology is impossible right now."

Kris relaxed his tense shoulders, fed up with feeling angry. "Well, it's not like you really deserve to show your face in there, anyway. And I wouldn't want you near Adam, even if you were allowed in. But I hope you'll apologize to him once we get out of this, if he doesn't rip your head off first."

He sighed heavily, glancing at his watch. "I need to go. Goodbye, Allen." His voice was half-hearted. "Good luck with everything."

Kris swallowed thickly and nodded. He was sick of this mess. Watching Danny lumber away, he focused on breathing in and out, and realized how badly he wanted to see Adam - he'd wanted to ever since waking up, but Danny had prevented him. He turned to walk back into the facility, and found himself in Katy's embrace upon entrance, her tiny arms wrapping around him and her bright smile shining up at him. "You did well." She assured him lovingly. "I'm proud of you."

Her presence was warm and pleasant. "I could say the same for you; I saw that you were with Adam so I let you two be." She grinned whole-heartedly. He hugged her happily. "I know that was hard for you to do, and that you felt really bad, but you must feel better now."

"I had to do it, Kris. I saw how much he means to you. How close you guys are... and it hurt me that I had caused such a mess and ruined what you had." She breathed.

He swallowed hard and leaned over, looking her directly in the face. "I'm sorry, Katy, I know it's been difficult for you... with us having our problems, and you seeing me and Adam, how we get along so well and everything. But I—do care about him. And what you did just now, how you're sorry... it means so much—"

"I love you," Katy said firmly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He relaxed into it, relieved. "That's all there is to it, really." She said when they pulled apart.

"I love you, too." He said honestly, and held her close. After a few moments, they parted, both smiling. "How was he doing?" Kris' curiosity burst forth, and she grinned at him, taking his hand and walking at his side.

She hesitated, though. "He—he was still weak," she finally began, slowly, as if trying to make sure her words were the right ones. "And in pain." He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. "He forgave me instantly, though. I don't think he expected me to come and apologize—he seemed to be surprised—but touched, and he was really tired, too. But he smiled. And it was real."

Kris took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm still scared for him, Katy. I see that he's a little better, but I can't take that for granted. Not when I've... just gotten him back."

Her eyes were big and sad. "He's tough. He was hurt badly, that's why it's taken time—and he's not done healing yet. But I'm worried about you too, honey." She peered up anxiously into his face. "How do you feel? Last night I thought for a second I really was going to have to get Stephanie to sedate you."

"Better," Kris hastened to assure her. "I feel much better, actually."

She nodded enthusiastically. "I'm glad," she said. "We were all afraid you would collapse. You were asking a bit too much of yourself."

"I'm okay," He said hurriedly, squeezing her fingers in his. "You should not have worried about me. I was just so afraid for Allie and Adam... and I've rested. I'm fine now."

She smiled reflectively. "I think everyone was afraid and worried. Still are afraid and worried. And certain recent events haven't helped much..."

Kris nodded. "Danny—" His name left a bad taste in his mouth. "—has made certain of that."

"It's over," Katy said gently. "Don't even waste a thought on him. He's not worth it. Let's focus on getting Adam one hundred percent better and getting you all back out on the road, okay? Stephanie says that the doctors want to release him soon."

"But—how can we, when Adam is so weak?" He was worried and surprised by this. "And Allie's not completely better, either... not well enough to got straight into rehearsals anyway—"

Katy's face was grim. "The media's catching on. The producers are anxious. You can all recover... they want to keep a slot of time free before they rescheduled postponed shows and they're pushing back all the dates. It's a huge mess... but they understand the seriousness, I think. You'll be able to rest and recuperate before going back to business as usual."

Although the fear still fluttered in his stomach, tiny seeds of hope were blossoming. "Okay," he said.

He was returning to Adam's room, finally, with the urgent desire to see him, ask him how he was doing, and assess the situation from there. Katy left him there, resolving to meet up with him at dinner.

* * *

This time, the presence was like a warm beacon and he recognized it instantly, but Adam was too tired to turn completely around. His whole body felt worn out and achy, and he wished it would stop. His head was a little fuzzy from tiredness and it throbbed slightly with the fatigue, which frustrated him, because he felt that he'd slept entirely too much already. He couldn't ignore however, that he felt incredibly drowsy and limp and it still pained him to move around too much.

He hated this.

"K-Kris?" he mumbled, not bothering to shift his head. The flat pillow of the medical bed swallowed most of the volume in his voice, but Adam knew Kris heard him acknowledge his entry, and didn't want to move it and repeat himself.

"I'm here, Adam." There was weariness edging his voice. Adam frowned at it, and finally struggling to look at his friend as he approached the bed, sitting beside him in the chair. "I came to see how you're doing." Kris rested a hand on his shoulder, and Adam vaguely noted that his touch didn't hurt. "I wanted to earlier… But a bunch of stuff came up. And then Katy was with you... you know."

Adam nodded softly, trying not to wince when his headache intensified at the gesture—"A b-bunch of stuff?" he mumbled curiously.

Kris sighed. He rubbed Adam's shoulder a little, and smiled sadly. "Yeah.... a lot of stupid things that kept me from you. I'm sorry."

"That's... okay." Adam breathed, and managed to grin. "Katy told me the producers... that they w-wanted to meet with you," he added, rather distantly. "About Danny?" He guessed.

Kris gritted his teeth, confirming it. "Unfortunately." His hand fell and gently brushed a stray piece of dark hair from Adam's face. "And then... he wanted to talk to me. I hated to, but I did... and I basically tore him a new one."

"Thanks," Adam told him. He thought it needed to be said, and it really was a relief to be able to reply without his breath catching, dragging and hurting quite as much. "Appreciate it."

"It was certainly no trouble," Kris said. His voice was slightly amused. "And he's done, by the way. After the tour that is, with 19E... they contemplated legal action against him, but decided against it."

Adam accepted that easily enough. He didn't want to make a bigger mess than needed. He much preferred to just forget about Gokey completely, try to ignore him until he didn't have to deal with him at all.

Kris' tone went more serious and he looked Adam over. "How are you feeling?"

Adam blinked and stared at Kris. He couldn't quite make him come into focus, still weakened considerably, eyes swimming. He had the feeling that wasn't so good. "Better, I guess," he mumbled. "It doesn't hurt as much. But I—f-feel like deadweight or something. I—I mean— I'm still tired. Can b-barely move sometimes." He blinked blearily up at the ceiling. "But it is getting better."

Kris patted his hand gently and thoughtfully. "That's good. I'm still worried about you even though I can tell you're doing better. I guess they're trying to get you well as quickly as possible—want us out of this place and back out on the road."

Adam bit his lip, pleased but doubtful. He wanted out - hated this place- wanted to be better. But he was sure he wasn't ready to perform again, and definitely wouldn't be right away.

He was impatient, sick of feeling like an invalid who couldn't seem to put himself back together. But the dull haze that still hung with him was undeniable, clinging to him in every action.

And he still hurt. Resolving all of this with Kris and Katy had helped, seeing Allison healed had helped... but it wasn't enough.

"Adam." Kris said, concerned, his voice dragging him from thought with its underlying protectiveness. "I think it's a bad idea to rush things... and I don't know if you're ready, but I'm here when the time comes. They're giving us some time to recover. To just be. And I want to be there for you."

Adam nodded slowly. "They're right... a-and I do want out of here, you know. The sooner the better. But I... I just..." He closed his eyes. "I want it all to stop."

"I know," Kris said softly. "I know, me too. Nothing would please me more than seeing you completely healed and back to your old self. I miss that."

"I—" Adam turned away, sad. "I miss it more than y-you do, believe me," he asserted.

Kris sighed then, scooting closer. That calloused hand rested on his forehead for a moment in a gentle benediction, and Adam felt his eyelids slide shut again.

* * *

"We're leaving soon?" Allie repeated, looking up into Kris' face with a slight crease of worry between her brows. She'd just returned from her outing with her parents.

He sighed a bit and nodded. "Yes, the powers that be have come to that decision. We're worried about Adam still, and don't want to risk anything just yet, but we're making the preparations."

Allison's eyes widened. "Back on tour?" she whispered, as if she couldn't imagine a hint of normalcy. "Not right away, of course, but wow... it'll be sort of weird."

"Definitely." Kris agreed. She closed her eyes for a moment, processing the information. She looked up then, frowning. "How is Adam?" she said.

"Better, but Stephanie wants him stronger before we leave," He replied. "She assures me that he seems to be moving in the right direction."

Allison nodded in acceptance of his words, but her eyes never left his face, still serious. "But how is he?" she pressed further. "Can I see him? How is he doing?"

Kris immediately deduced that Adam would probably love seeing her again. "Go see him after dinner," he nodded. "It'd probably be good for him."

She smiled big and nodded happily. "Good, I want to. I've been thinking about him constantly, really worried."

"He is doing better," Kris reiterated, choosing his words carefully. "He is still exhausted, and I can tell he still hurts considerably. But he smiles and laughs and he's breathing so much better." He sighed and brought up a hand to rub it over his face. "I'm concerned, yeah... but hopeful," He added. "His improvement seems... promising."

Allison's face set with the strength and determination he remembered she always possessing. "I can't wait to see him," she said.

* * *

Stephanie pressed the edge of the last, lighter bandage one against his shoulder until it adhered and clung there. Adam lay still on the bed and tried not to express how sick of this routine he really was.

"Well, you're doing a lot better," She said in a cheerful tone. He gave a tired smile in response, one side of his mouth quirking upward. He was feeling better than he had since arriving - but he had to admit to himself that that wasn't saying much.

"I'm glad," she continued. "So keep it up, all right?"

Adam could feel his smile grow a bit and he tried to infuse gratitude for her caring in it. "I'll try to," he assured her, his voice thready and wispy. It didn't sound anything like him and he winced at the sound.

She adjusted his pillows, and then leaned down to look at his face. "There's someone who'd like to see you," she said. "Are you up to another visitor?"

"Sure," he said softly. "Of course."

She nodded and then was gone, leaving Adam alone. His head still hurt, and he couldn't manage much thought, but he sat up a bit when the door creaked open again.

It was nothing short of thrilling to see her, strong and smiling, standing there. He drank in the sight of her, even though she still looked tired and a little pale, she was back to her old self, and he marveled at it as she approached.

"Allie." he whispered contentedly.

And then she was there, right there by his side, taking his head in her hands affectionately. "Adam," she said, her voice brave, but wavering a bit. She smiled down at him, and then pressed a tiny, affectionate kiss to the top of his head.

He reached up and found her arm, squeezing it, watching her grin widen. Her fiery hair hung, slightly curly, at her shoulders, and bounced as she sat in the chair.

"Look at you..." he remarked in wonderment. She smirked, giggling. "I'm so glad... you look so much... better."

Her arms went around him, and he accepted the hug, just as he'd accepted a thousand of her admiring embraces before. "I know," she replied. "I feel great."

He stared into her face when she drew back, truly relieved to see her looking so well. "You came to visit me again," he stated. A lingering trembling pain seized him then — he cringed against it. He knew she saw it in his face, for her grin twisted a bit, and her eyes faded in brightness.

Her face tightened. "Yes, yes, I'm here," she said quickly. "I missed you."

Adam turned his head a little to see her better. "Missed you too," he murmured quietly, "Thank God you're a-all right."

Her fingers fiddled anxiously with a stray thread on his blanket. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.

Adam pressed himself into a sitting position, ignoring his weak muscles protesting the move, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, so achingly desperate to not worry her, sick of everyone being so worried.

He didn't want to tell her how he probably shouldn't have done that, that pain sparked on the edges of his perceptions, and he still felt limp with fatigue. She didn't need that.

But she must have felt it in the clasp of his arm around her, for she rubbed his shoulders gently around the gauze. When he pulled back and leaned into his pillows again, she searched his eyes quietly.

"I'm so sorry, Adam," she said then, as if remembering. "I heard about Danny... about everything."

"Not your fault," he reminded her, frowning, "Only his." She grasped his hand in hers.

Allison nodded. "I—I know," she smiled sadly. "But he hurt you, too...I couldn't believe that. I wanted to punch him."

Adam laughed weakly, "No, A-Allison," he said. "No, you d-don't need to worry about that. I got him... pretty good."

"I heard that too—" She said almost warmly. "What an asshole." Her eyes narrowed. "—thought Kris was going to kill him. And you know Kris doesn't get really angry a lot."

"He was mad," Adam agreed. "S-so was I." She looked down at him sharply. "I definitely wasn't... in the mood for his shit... especially then."

She smiled at that and giggled again. "Good riddance," she concluded. "Now, Adam... you need to get better, m'kay? Because you can't just start feeling a little better and then flake out on us, all right?"

He chuckled idly. "Flake out? Me? You... must not know me at all."

"There's the Adam I remember," she replied softly. "But seriously, I'm not kidding."

Adam sighed, but grinned. "I'll be fine, Allie," he whispered. "Stop worrying... I'm going to be okay."

She pulled his chin up and looked him in the eye, warm eyes full of emotion. "I'll hold you to that promise."

--------------

REVIEWS?


	8. PART 8

Kris took a steadying breath before reaching out to open the door. At his entrance, Allie looked up and smiled softly as he cleared his throat.

Adam's head jerked up in genuine surprise, though, and his expression shifted. His features tensed and tightened, and a strange look manifested itself in his eyes. Kris was momentarily baffled by it, giving him a questioning look. Adam glanced nervously at Allie—and then, when she smiled fully, laid a shaking hand against her arm and forced a tentative grin, patting it tenderly.

Kris sensed there was more to the behavior, but didn't want to ask just yet.

The hesitant luminosity of Adam's smile, however marred it was by the tiny lines of lingering pain in his face, made his heart wrench as warmth spread up from somewhere deep in his chest. The shadows were still there, but softened by light.

"Kris." he said in greeting, then flushed slightly and dropped his eyes, his hand withdrawing from Allie's arm and brushing over his eyes. "I—I'm sorry. I—" He apologized oddly.

Kris cringed at his pain. "There is nothing more to apologize for, Adam," he assured him, voice understanding. Then he changed the subject. "I'm glad you got to see Allie again."

Adam refused to meet his or Allison's concerned gaze and his grip tightened, his fist balling up a section of the blanket. He shifted his leg slightly to make room for Kris when he approached the bed to sit on its edge, and waveringly shook off the pain, but that heightened tension still suffused his features, making him look almost feverish. Kris realized with sad certainty that it would be awhile, even after he was released, before Adam would be completely back to his old self again.

Allison ran her hand through Adam's hair impishly, although she straightened up and made sure he was steady against the pillows as she did so. "It'll be all right, Adam," she whispered. "I promise."

Adam nodded dully, then let out a woeful sigh. It made Kris' raw heart twist slightly. "What is it, Kris?" he mumbled, wary.

He reached out to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, and was heartened when he didn't flinch away in pain, though he didn't lean into the touch either. "Stephanie is going to be here in a few minutes. She wanted to talk to you about your progress and what's going to happen next, I guess. What to expect when we do leave."

He just looked at Kris for one slow moment before he nodded and exhaled softly. "O-okay," he replied. "Good idea."

"I'll leave you two, then," Allison said, pulling away, after a slight squeeze to Adam's hand. His head whipped around to look at her, his expression soft. Allie grinned. "Now you don't have to worry about me anymore. Focus on yourself," she whispered firmly. "I'll see you later, all right?"

Adam nodded falteringly. "G'bye, Allie." Pain flitted through his eyes and he tried agonizingly to hide it from her, the sight making Kris avert his eyes in sadness.

He waited until he heard the door click shut behind her before turning back.

The pained flush was slowly resurfacing on Adam's face. His cheeks were not as pale and ashen white as they'd been, but pink where the bruises hadn't stained them, his lip was swollen and it trembled, and he was smiling hesitantly at Kris through the tension.

Kris smiled back tenderly, and his eyes roved over him anxiously. He could hear him shakily exhale, but he didn't look up right away, examining his friend curiously.

Then Adam swayed noticeably, his body crumpling in on itself as if his strength had left the room along with Allison. Kris jumped up and caught him in his arms, moving in to support him gently against his side, sliding one of Adam's arms around his waist to hold him steady.

His other arm came up to gratefully squeeze Kris' sleeve, his fingers bunching in the cloth. He was shaking, little tremors traveling throughout his body. Kris realized then that Adam had been fighting that whole time to look strong for Allie's benefit, hiding the fact that he was still struggling, the drugs had left him pained and weak, fighting it all himself.

"Are you all right, Adam?" He inquired, carefully bracing his shoulders and adjusting the pillow.

When he shrugged, he felt boneless and limp against Kris' side. "T-tired. S'all right if I lean on you?"

"Always," Kris assured him quietly.

He relaxed against his side, letting his weight settle into Kris. "Thanks. I'm sorry..."

"It's nothing," Kris replied, touched by the trusting way Adam's head rested against his smaller shoulder. He shifted, hoping the weaker man was comfortable, not wanting to hurt him more.

Adam sighed then. "Am I too heavy, K-Kris?" he asked. His voice was blurry, but a little sturdier now.

"Not at all." Kris told him.

"Good," he mumbled again. "Don't want to squish you." There was a tiny attempt at a chuckle. "Kris—" his voice wobbled a little, and he winced. "I'm really glad... that you're here."

Kris blinked rapidly to clear his vision. "I'm glad I am here, too. I don't want to be anywhere else," he whispered. "I—" He took a quick breath. "—and I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" His muscles tensed and he looked up into Kris' face, his forehead creasing and his eyes big. "Didn't I tell you to... quit apologizing?" he asked, sounding tired.

Kris indicated his wearied, damaged body with a nod of his head. "Sorry that you're like this. I tried to hard to save you from it all... and I truly am sorry, you don't deserve all this pain."

"Oh." He breathed strangely. His head shifted, cheek pressing into the corner of Kris' shoulder. "S'okay."

"Okay?" Kris choked out.

He shook his head. "It is, Kris. I thought... thought it was gonna be... so much worse. It c-could've been." He shivered, and Kris pulled the blanket up around him. "I . . . could f-feel the fire getting closer... s-saw things falling around me—the smoke, burning, Christian laying there… and I thought that was it... thought I was done. It was so dark. I-I couldn't b-breathe... " He took a deep breath, and Kris could feel any leftover terror of the accident gushing out of him. "But you saved me, Kris; didn't leave me... you saved me." There was a long pause while he turned his head. "Y-you shouldn't apologize. And I s-should... spend eternity thanking you."

An icy chill ran down Kris' spine. "That's not necessary. You... you would've done the same for me. I would never leave you, Adam," he said ferociously.

He smiled, closing his eyes. "I would do the same..." he said blurrily. "... I wouldn't leave you, Kris."

"I'm just sorry I didn't get to you sooner." Kris said, rubbing his friend's arm.

He rolled his head back, eyes flashing. "Again, with the apologies?" He smirked a little, bruised mouth quirking upward. "Stop it."

Kris shook his head. "I'm the one who screwed up here, Adam. If I feel the need to apologize for things over and over... let me."

He blinked. He seemed a little bit more awake now, the weak-haze fading from his eyes. "I don't want you to... to say sorry for t-things," he said. "Things that are irrelevant. I screwed up, too, remember?"

Kris stared at him.

"I—I shouldn't have assumed you did all those things merely selfishly," Adam told him. His voice wavered, only slightly. "I know you better than that. I'm supposed to be your f-friend. I should have tried to help you through... help you fix things with Katy. Not make it harder. I just wish—" He swallowed. "I just wish that we could take i-it all back," Kris nodded distantly in agreement. "Wish I would've dug deeper, f-figured out why you did what you did. But—it all hurt too much, and I just—I didn't want to know."

Kris was staring at some point on the far wall, eyes misty. "It's okay," he murmured. "Don't feel sorry about that. She's my wife. You're not obligated to get involved in my marital problems."

Adam sighed acceptingly. "You guys seem pretty good now," he said softly. "I noticed. And I-I'm glad... you need her. She needs you. I didn't realize wh-what a great, strong rel... relationship you two have. I was too worried that it was destroying o-ours. Stupid, I guess."

"No, Adam," Kris said. His throat had gone tight again. "Not stupid at all. I had given you reason to be worried about that."

His hand came up and squeezed Kris' shoulder. "You're my b-best friend," he said. "Should have trusted you."

Kris took a sharp breath. "Its okay, Adam."

"Thank you." He muttered; voice wispy.

"You're welcome," Kris responded softly, just as the door slid open and Stephanie stepped inside. Adam tried to struggle up to a straight, sitting position within his encircling arm as she crossed the room to them, and Kris steadied him.

"Better, Adam?" she asked, concerned. "Or worse?"

"B-better," he said, after a moment, and she smiled.

"I thought so," she said warmly. "It's going to be harder, now that you can feel the pain... those drugs we had you on aren't there to ease that, the healing's up to you now. And that's why I'm here actually."

"Okay," he said resolutely.

"You're looking better, too, Kris," she added. "I told you all you needed was some rest."

"You were right," Kris said. "I should've known better than to argue with you. I was just so worried about everyone else that I forgot to worry about myself."

"Self-sacrificing, sweet Kris," Stephanie teased gently. "Right, Adam?"

"She's got you... there, Kris." Adam's words were still slow with pain, but they were so much clearer.

Kris put up a hand. "I surrender. Two against one is not a fair battle. Now quit teasing."

She grinned. "Okay, serious talk now. What should I start with?"

Adam braced himself, stiffening beside Kris. "Just tell me... everything." He looked dizzy. "Please."

Kris, wanting to make sure he knew he wasn't alone, tightening his reassuring hold on Adam's arm.

She nodded. "All right. Well, as I'm sure you've figured out, it's not nearly as bad as it could have been. Your lungs are still a little weak, which is why you can't go back to singing straightaway, but they are going to heal completely. Your burns were moderate, but along the right shoulder it was particularly worrisome. You're definitely going to scar there, if not a little bit around the rest of it."

Adam closed his eyes for a moment, processing the information. "How bad?"

"Not too bad, really," She said, assuring. "Your upper back and along the back of your arm are only a little singed, and I doubt that'll scar at all, so, considering everything, you're getting off easy. It shouldn't curtail your ability to do anything at all."

Adam nodded, tired relief spreading across his face.

"As for your ankle," She continued, "Once you're up and about, we'll give you a crutch. It's only a sprain, but you have to take care of it, anyway. I assume you'll be on the move, which is why we're giving you a crutch, but make sure to rest it. It'll heal faster if you take it easy on that leg, and I'm sure Kris can help you make sure that happens."

Adam sighed, making him tremble a bit. "Great..." he said, and then his eyes rolled as he groaned. "Kris," he said urgently, laughing dryly. "You're going to have to help me... because I'm a cripple now, okay?"

"Of course. It'll be fine," Kris replied. "You'll be fine."

-------------------

The next day they'd all, sans Adam, been called in for another meeting with the producers, and by the end of it, Kris' heart was searing and mind reeling. Katy, bewildered, sat beside him, waiting for him to speak.

After a few minutes, she spoke up. "Kris...?"

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "We're leaving." This will work out. He assured himself silently.

"I know." She said softly. "I got a call, one of the producers."

"Tomorrow," he spoke again, sighing. "We have a new bus. New driver. We're leaving."

Her smile widened. "Well, it's sort of a good thing. I know that Adam is still weak, and not completely healed. But you can't stay here forever. And he's anxious... going a bit stir-crazy, I think. It's important... you have to move on. You swore to look after Adam's best interests, and I respect that, but Kris, maybe it's time to start pushing toward that complete recovery you want for him... away from this place."

He nodded seriously. "I understand why we're leaving, Katy. I don't want to stay in this place, either. I'm just worried."

She smiled sympathetically. "Everything'll be fine."

He shifted uneasily. Another thing was that if the tour was back underway, she'd be leaving him and going back to Conway, and there were so many things he wanted to talk over with her that he did not know where to begin, so many more things they needed to do to mend all the holes ripped in their marriage.

"I'm going to miss you, too," He said. "A lot." He sighed, thinking over the time they'd already spent on the road, fun and exciting in many ways, but scary and lonely at times as well. "I love you, Katy. I hope you know and remember that—you mean so much to me—and I didn't make sure I was expressing that enough until it was too late. And then I've been so caught up in Adam and this mess, I haven't spent a lot of time with you, and I'm sorry it turned out that way. Even now he's still fragile, and I know I'm going to be with him a lot." He looked down her hands in his. "But I'll call you everyday."

Katy leaned forward, resting a petal-soft kiss against his lips. He accepted it eagerly, twisting his fingers through her golden hair. "You worry so much, Kris," she said with a slight laugh in her voice as she pulled back, then she sobered. "You're right, it's a shame we'll be apart again. But it'll be okay, we'll learn from these past mistakes and be stronger because of them."

Kris nodded. "I only hope that in time, I can fix things, and we'll be back to the way we used to be" he said softly.

She gave a slight giggle. "You sell yourself short, baby. We're already halfway there. Everything's going to work out just fine, I think. With us... and with you and Adam."

Kris blinked softly, thinking.

She smiled. "He knows you care, baby. The foundation is there. You reached out to him and you pulled him back from the edge of near-death despite the fact that you'd just fought with him, despite everything that happened between you, and you did not abandon him even when he lashed out to try to make you leave him."

"I have always cared for him," Kris said decidedly.

She shook her head. "But you guys... your friendship has grown stronger. You find comfort in each other, you long for his approval, he wants yours. I'm sure he feared once that you could never accept him as he was, that there were so many differences between you that it was impossible to build a relationship, but you've done just that. And I'm proud of you."

"You're right," He agreed wearily. "There's a part of my old self that I'm sure would've hesitated to become such good friends with Adam... and right now I kind of want to go back in time and kick that part of myself in the face."

"There's the beauty in it." She breathed. "And that's why I'm so glad your friendship wasn't ruined, it's a part of you now, Kris. You're not yourself without him."

"No, I'm not." He admitted. "Katy—" Kris started then, fumbling for words. "I—"

She chuckled happily. "Its okay, Kris; I am happy... so happy. And I know you are too - underneath all that worry, that tiredness, everything... you are too."

"Everything is going to be okay." He realized, nodding.

She kissed him again, and then squeezed his hand. "I love you." He returned the phrase, grateful for all of her words. As she withdrew from his arm, he caught a glance of Stephanie in the hall and hurried to catch her attention.

Katy hung back a bit, politely. "Stephanie," He greeted carefully, noting her stressed face, and guessing she was in charge of their pre-departure preparations.

She smiled irritably. "Oh, hey, Kris... I assume you want to talk about the decision to leave."

"Kind of," He said cautiously. "I hear Allison and the some of the others are going to meet the new driver today and then the bus is coming here to pick us all up. I wanted to know what was going on as far as you and what you have to do. If I can help or anything."

Her face was crinkled in worry.

"Is something wrong?" He asked.

"No... really, it's okay. I'm just worried about you all, and I hope your producers don't push recovery on you too fast after all you've been through. I think they're rushing things a little."

"It's possible," He agreed. "You don't think Adam's ready?" He prompted gently, somewhat afraid of her answer.

She sighed. "I'm not sure, but I have confidence that you'll take care of him. He's still weak and in pain, but I'm sure you'll make sure he's okay."

"Of course." He assured her, concern for his best friend surging into his voice plainly.

She sighed. "I'll sort of miss taking care of you crazy Idol people... never a dull moment." She giggled dryly. "You want to see him, don't you?"

* * *

For the first time since they'd come there, Adam reacted immediately when Kris entered his room, rolling onto his side and twisting around to look over at him.

He knew that meant he was gradually gaining strength, and he felt almost weak with relief, alongside all of the concern still bundled in his heart.

A faint smile touched Adam's lips. "Kris," he greeted; his voice still soft.

"Hello, Adam," He said. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he said without much conviction. His response seemed vague and offhand, as if he were sick of answering it.

Katy stepped into the room behind him then, and Kris glanced up, smiling lovingly as she approaching, taking his arm. Adam's eyes flickered toward her in recognition and started to slide away tiredly— but then he pushed himself up with one arm and looked closer at her, then back at Kris. His eyes widened, and a real smile started to spread across his features, a bright, happy grin as Kris hadn't seen since... he didn't know when. Kris could feel his cheeks heat up, as he grinned sheepishly, Adam's thoughtful eyes reading them carefully.

"I can't believe it," he said, and even his voice sounded stronger. There was a sparkle in his eyes, cutting through the murky gloom that had enshrouded them ever since they'd fought. "Kris... you're blushing. You two lovebirds. You look so... " He chuckled. "Happy. Did you finally kiss?" He asked perceptively. "Because I'm not stupid, Kris... things are a little... t-tense between you and.... and I sort of told her to p-put the moves... on you."

"I—" Kris started, then realized he had no idea what he was going to say, he was too caught up in all that he saw in Adam's bright face, his teasing demeanor. Finally, he managed to reply teasingly, "I'll thank you to keep yourself out of things that don't concern you, Adam."

Unfazed, he turned to Katy when she giggled. "You're blushing, too," he said in a tone of excitement. "This is awesome." His gaze swung back to Kris quickly. "Perfect."

"Adam Lambert..." Kris admonished sharply. "What are you suggesting? Explain yourself."

His grin widened. "Shut up, Kris, you did. You kissed her, I know it." His smile turned sly and teasing. "'Bout time, by the way... it's been a l-long time comin', Krissy, next step... more corporeal relations."

"Adam!" He exclaimed, shocked by his words. But a laugh rumbled into his throat and he nearly let it out, gasping.

Adam laughed wholeheartedly, chest heaving a little. It sounded like old times, the sound so surprising and welcome that it almost brought tears to Kris' eyes. "So predictable," he said quietly, "I was only teasing."

"I don't know if I should be angry with you for that comment or merely annoyed," Kris managed, trying to keep a straight face. "Katy, ignore the immature one."

Adam's eyes danced. "Ignore me? First of all... that's a very difficult task, I'm p-practically un-ignorable. Secondly... you two came in here, visiting me. And now you say 'ignore me'? Yeah... right."

"I would appreciate a bit more discretion on your part, Adam," Kris said fake-grumpily.

He chuckled again and lay back down on the bed. "All right, I'm done teasing," he said. "All right." He sighed and glanced back toward Katy, seeing that she too, had an amused grin on her face. "What now?"

Kris moved toward him and started to give him an answer, but right at that moment the door to the room slid open behind them.

All three of them turned toward it, and in came Allison and Megan.

Adam sat up sharply, then hissed in pain at the reckless action, grimacing. He looked away for a split-second before turning back, smiling at them.

"Girls?" Kris said in surprise.

"The bus is ready so, uh... the producers said we... we— should leave now," Allison said. She took a deep breath. "Danny and Scott are coming with us, too. I—I had to come to let you guys know." She shook her head, looking at Adam. "I don't know if this is a good idea."

"No," Adam said rather loudly, protesting. "Please go, Allie. Please. It— it's time. Don't worry about me." Kris could see him swallow hard. "And—and I'm okay. I—I feel better. It'll be good to get out of here—away from this mess." Kris nodded at his words, heartened by them.

"It may seem scary," Megan said. "But we have to. It's time to go. We have to start picking up the pieces... Adam?"

Adam had winced for a long moment, turning away. But then he glanced up at Megan with a shaky grin. "I'm fine, fine..." He muttered awkwardly.

"Allie- Adam's not completely better or recovered, none of us are." Kris smiled sadly, hating the look on the young girl's face as she gazed worriedly at Adam. "But we can't hide from the reality of the situation, which says it's time for us to get moving."

Adam looked up at her then, grinning. "S-stop worrying about me," he said in a slightly trembling voice. He paused and finished more resolutely, "I'm going to be okay. I want this."

"You'd better be okay," Allison returned quickly, with a touch of a teasing threat.

Adam chuckled and shook his head. "You all need to have a little more faith in me, alright?" he returned, and then his gaze sobered. "I can do this," he said. "Please." He looked toward Kris, and his throat constricted as he continued, "We can't just sit around here forever," he said softly. "Pardon the theatre kid m-mantra, but 'the show m-must go on' ... I'm ready."

"I'll take care of him, Allie," Kris said with gentle honesty. "You know I will."

She nodded and took a deep breath. "I know," she whispered.

"Come here," Adam said, scooting over and outstretching his arms to her.

She ran forward and hugged him tightly, not holding back. "Oh, Adam. Adam..."

He tilted his head back and rubbed her back soothingly. "Everything's going to be okay, Allie-Cat," he whispered to her.

"If you don't s-stop this and g-get better, I'll go crazy," She said warningly, but her voice shook.

"I will," Adam replied immediately, confidently. "I—I promise. You won't need to go to that extreme."

"Good," she said, and then she pulled away. "See you, Adam."

"Chin up," he replied, his hand squeezing tight around her arm for one moment as Megan put an arm over him too, and then he let go, and they both stepped away. "Now go," he said, with a slight push. "Go, all right?"

Allison nodded and backed away. "See you soon," she said, and then paused, remembering. "It'll be so weird having someone else driving us around. But the new driver - apparently she's a big fan of yours, Adam."

"Tell her hello from me," Adam said; his voice tight as he managed to stay upright, though faltering slightly. "Goodbye."

Megan nodded. "Goodbye," she repeated lamely, and they left the room.

Adam collapsed onto the bed and closed his eyes, not holding back anymore. Kris moved toward him and laid one hand on his shoulder, trying to offer him what comfort and support he could when he knew he was still weak and pained.

"It will be all right," Kris repeated Adam's own words, quietly.

Adam sighed, and his body relaxed, though his eyes remained closed. "Thanks, Kris," he managed.

"Mrs. Allen?" Came an unfamiliar voice, and Kris immediately looked up. A man stood in the doorway, and Kris realized vaguely that this was the man who had been hired to drive Katy to the hospital from the airport. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," His wife said shakily, then looked to him. "Almost."

"Ready?" Kris repeated quickly.

She looked toward him, and her eyes were sad. "I'm sorry, Kris," she said. "You probably saw this coming even though they scheduled a flight out so suddenly, that's what the call was... I—I've decided to go back to Conway today, since the producers arranged all this for me, free. You're okay here, and I don't want to drag things out and make them more painful, and... it's time for me to leave this place. You don't need me right now. I've got a flight out this afternoon. I—" she sighed. "I've done all I can," she said, then shook her head. "Oh, damn it," she said, frustrated, then smiled, "I'm no good at saying goodbye," and she leapt forward to fling her arms around Kris and press her lips to his in a fervent kiss.

Kris could vaguely hear Adam chuckle pleasantly in the background, but he melted into the kiss.

She pulled away after a moment. "Remember to call me," she said fiercely. "Everyday, keep me posted. About Adam too, I want to know how he's doing, along with you."

"Don't worry, Katy—" Adam piped up softly, grinning. "I'll watch over your boy-toy. Make sure he doesn't... wear himself out, or s-stick his fingers in any electrical sockets."

"What?" Kris spat out incredulously. "Her boy-toy?"

Katy smiled and shook her head, giggling. "Good," she said, and then turned back to Kris. "Be careful. And safe. I never want to get a strange call late at night about you or see you on the news in some emergency again."

"I'll be careful," Kris replied.

"You too, Adam." She sent him an admiring grin. "Trouble seems to follow you around."

"Yeah, yeah..." Adam mumbled dismissively.

She laughed. "I love you," she touched Kris' cheek, then smiled and let go of him, stepping out of his arms.

Kris cleared his throat, and glanced to Adam, who was smiling at the couple. "Katy," he said quickly. "I—ah—I—"

"Goodbye, Kris," she said. "I'll see you again before you know it."

He beamed then. "Thank you for coming to me, Katy," he professed. "I needed you here. And I love you too." She looked over at him, her eyes lingering for a long moment, and she swallowed, grinning.

Kris stared back. "Well, I guess you'd better go," he said, seeing the impatient look on the driver's face.

And she nodded, leaving the room.

------------------

_Darkness. It was all around him, swirling in a smoky haze. He coughed roughly, eyes stinging. He was searching through the hot blackness, for something important, something that would make everything right, back the way it should be._

_Because now, at this moment, everything was wrong. Everything._

_Kris' throat was tight and aching with tears that he would not shed, could not shed, because the panicked lump in his throat barely let him breathe. His hand clenched tightly around the hot metal, grinding to rasp against another metal. The glowing orange in the front sent a sickly ghost-light through the overwhelming darkness. Everything around him but the large piece of metal and the death-pale features of the forlorn figure lying before him was nothing more than a confused, ever-shifting blur._

_He slumped on his knees, his eyes huge and bruised and glassy with a wet sheen in the darkness. He blinked slowly, and said nothing as he knelt there, utterly helpless. Adam was there, his breathing coming in low, harsh pants and his shoulders heaving. He looked as if he had been completely torn apart and dismantled, everything within him that defined him and made him who he was, Kris' best friend, gone. He was broken - shuddering and gasping. His sad, battered eyes seemed to pierce the fabric of Kris' soul, and something in him wanted to scream._

_"I'm sorry, Kris," came that raspy, weak voice, clutching him as it echoed through the darkness._

_A thousand voices screeched through Kris, voices that yearned for Adam, cried for him, voices that screamed at him to save him, to help him. Adam was sobbing weakly now, Allison screaming his name._

_Adam closed his eyes and fell brutally away from the world, closed the last doors of his mind and shut Kris out with a finality that seemed to ring and in his head, and then, with a shaking breath, fell completely limp._

_Eyes drowned pools of sorrow, watered and hopeless, Kris whispered brokenly. "No! Please, Adam, don't ... don't do this. Come back."_

_His plea did nothing. The fire raged on._

-----------------

The raw, terrified yelp brought Adam awake all at once, gasping, startled. Trembling, he was immediately alert, out of a sound sleep.

Kris had fallen asleep awkwardly curled into the chair at his side, and Stephanie, sympathetic, made Adam promise not to tell her supervisor if she let him stay there, not wanting to wake him up. She had pointed quietly to the bed left vacant on the other side of the room, then left.

Adam recognized it as Kris' voice, filled with pain and dread. So much so that it made his heart turn over and curl up into a bunch of despaired knots.

"No!!!" The shout came again, wavering a bit and slightly less loud.

Adam surged upward and ignored the white-hot pain that seared through him as he did so, almost collapsing toward the chair, but recovering himself in time. He paused and waited for his breath to return to its normal pattern, and the adrenaline rush faded, along with his speeding heart rate.

Kris was sprawled fitfully into the chair, grimacing in the throes of a nightmare.

His breaths were wild and filled with tears and fear and Adam moved forward, not feeling the pain twinge as he leaned over, nearly off the bed completely to reach Kris.

Ragged, tiny sobs shook Kris' body, but he didn't wake. He was soaked in a cold sweat. Adam's mouth dropped open at the sight, his friend tossing a bit, looking almost feverish.

His eyes snapped open when Adam could finally touch him, but no recognition lit up within them as he glanced frantically about. He was still lost somewhere within. "No," he moaned, and Adam winced as Kris dug his nails into his arm. "No, please, no—Adam, no—"

Shock registered distantly within him somewhere to hear his own name on those shaking lips, but he wasted no time on the foolish reaction. He pulled forward and shook Kris gently, before taking his tear-stained face into his trembling hands. "Easy," He soothed him, hoping he'd wake up then. "Easy, Kris, easy... it's just a dream, only a dream, wake up now. I'm here."

Kris flinched at the sound of his voice; and squeezed his eyes shut, groaning louder. He writhed a bit in Adam's weak embrace, panicking still as if something terrible were happening. "Adam, Allison—please—no, no," he sobbed quietly as he fought against the touch. His arms flailed, batting weakly at Adam, and he shrunk back.

He moaned again, then pressed his lips tight together, salty tears still falling, then surged upward, slamming up against Adam. He was unprepared for Kris' sudden movement, and hit him in the chest near the collarbone, as Kris struggled to escape whatever he was dreaming.

Adam ignored the dull pain and wrapped his arms tight around him before sinking weakly back, pulling him close against him, pressing his face against his ear, feeling the thundering pulse of Kris' racing heart.

The smaller man's body stiffened then, and relaxed, and went limp in his arms, crying softly. He rubbed his hands gently in circles on the smaller man's back. "Kris?" He ventured quietly. "Can you hear me?"

Kris tore himself out of Adam's hold suddenly and roughly, sending streams of pain shooting through him, and collapsed back against the chair before he could steadying himself, eyes bulging. "... Adam?" he blurted, confused. "No— I was... you..."

Adam took a breath, wincing. He sat up with difficulty. "Kris?" his voice faltered, uncertain. "Kris, its okay... you were just dreaming..."

He turned his face away, shocked for a moment, then looked back at Adam, eyes big. "You—left me, Adam," he said softly, his voice shaking violently. "You were gone. I-I tried to save you."

Tears still shimmering in his eyes, he started to realize what had happened. "I'm sorry," he sighed, and reached out a trembling hand to brush his fingers over his cheeks, scrubbing the frightened tears away. Then he his head jerked upward and he looked to his friend, astonished. "Oh my God, did I hurt you? Shit... I'm sorry... I..." He swallowed hard. "I thought I lost you... it was so real... back on that bus, the smoke... you were..." He broke off, trying to calm himself down.

Adam reached out a comforting arm toward his friend, but couldn't suppress a wince and small wispy breath of pain, his chest aching where Kris had unknowingly slammed into him.

"I did hurt you," Kris' jaw was slack, and he leaned forward, eyes wide with remorse. "Oh my God, I..."

"It was an accident," Adam said softly. "You didn't mean to." He took a breath. "And it was my fault; I'm the one... who was t-trying to grab you like that. I thought y-you weren't gonna... w-wake up for a second there."

He stared at Adam, lost in thought, and his chin trembled slightly. His hand tightened around his friend's arm; as if afraid he'd disappear. "T-Thank you." he stammered. A little gasp. "For waking me up. That was—terrible—"

Adam could almost see the awful images of the nightmare cloaking the light from Kris' eyes, and he swallowed, sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Kris. But it was just a d-dream... it's okay."

"Are you all right?" Kris asked seriously, suddenly urgently concerned, needing to know if he'd hurt his best friend.

"Fine," Adam winced a little when Kris pressed a hand where he'd knocked into him obliviously, and Kris' frown deepened considerably. "You pack a hell of a punch, Allen." He chuckled weakly. "I'm really starting to learn... that y-you're a lot stronger than you look."

"God, I'm sorry." And he was, his whole being shifted to sad and remorseful, his voice was small and quiet.

Adam sent Kris a look of concern and caring. "You didn't know—you were completely lost in that dream, Kris," he whispered. "I had to wake you up. You—screamed—and—you were crying—"

Kris mussed his hair a bit, steadying his own breathing, and then withdrew his hand from Adam's arm. "I never have nightmares," he mused. "I thought it was real. You didn't make it out; I didn't get to you in time." He stared down at his hands, Adam now seeing tiny black singe-marks on each of his fingertips, and then one side of his mouth quirked up slightly. "And I woke you up..." he finally said in a tired voice, hoarse from the after-effects of his hysteria. "Sorry about that."

Adam smiled at him, and shrugged lightly. "It's all r-right. You said I scared the shit out of you, I figure... its only fair that y-you return the favor."

Kris laughed dryly, and then seemed to realize what time it was, seeing the darkness outside the window and the shadow of confusion flitted across his face.

"S-Stephanie said it was okay." Adam answered the unasked question. "As long as... her supervisor doesn't find out you were i-in here."

He shrugged. "Okay, then." Then, he took a deep, shaking breath and stared down at the blanket, eyes blank again, back into the world of his thoughts, his fingers brushing back and forth against the frame of the bed.

He swallowed painfully. "I—I dreamed that you were gone, Adam. You and A-Allison and—and—" He looked up at his friend, and his eyes were desolate. "And that almost happened—s-so it felt real—and God… that was a mess... I—I—"

"Stop!" He looked up in surprise at Adam's commanding exhale. "Stop," Adam begged. "Don't torture yourself... it was a dream, Kris. You're tired and you've been through hell and back, several times really... I know you're scared, but it is f-foolish to torment yourself over a dream when you were... just starting to recover and feel more like... y-your old self."

Kris' eyes looked vulnerable, but his mouth settled into a thin, accepting line. "I'm sorry—" he said. "I couldn't bear it if I lost you, Adam. Or Allison. That's all—"

Adam reached out and touched his hand gently, cutting him off. "Come on," he said. "You need sleep."

"All right, then," he said, forcing calm into his voice, and Adam could tell he was ashamed for waking him up, and felt guilty.

He was too tired to protest though, when Adam insisted he move over to the other, vacant bed on the opposite side of the room, instead of curling back into that stiff, hard chair at Adam's side.

--------


	9. PART 9

"Fuck it!" Adam's voice, low and irritated, rang throughout the room.

"Adam?" Kris asked, striding in then, confused.

Adam was sitting up, slightly on the edge of his bed, with his legs dangling over the side. He was now dressed in a pair of dark denim jeans which completely covered his ankle injury, but he didn't have a shirt on. His eyes were tired and frustrated, and he slowly ran a hand over his flushed cheeks. "I—I can't do it, Kris," he whispered, sounding almost disgusted with himself. "I—can... barely even stand up."

Kris shook his head softly and came over to his side of the bed. "You can't expect your strength to come back all at once, Adam. And your ankle's sprained, so standing will be more difficult," he told him gently. "It will take time, you're not Superman."

He stared up at his friend, face still pale and slightly bruised but full of determination. "I'm not?," he ground out, chuckling wearily. Then he continued, more quietly. "How am I supposed to... to f-fucking get up on stage and blow people's minds with my... fierceness, when I can hardly walk?" He looked down, gritting his teeth.

"Adam," Kris said seriously, bending down a bit to look into his eyes. "Who said anything about getting up on stage now? Don't rush yourself, all right?"

Adam's eyes were huge and pleading, full of desperate fortitude. "I want to," he murmured. "I have to get better, need to p-perform. I'm supposed to." He swallowed hard, and Kris smiled sympathetically as he continued. "People are counting on me," he said, and his voice shook. "I need to be better. And I-I don't want you to... to have to p-practically babysit me until I am."

Kris sat beside him on the bed and put an arm over his freshly bandaged shoulders. The muscles there were taut and knotted, and the feverish, exhausted heat of Adam's body radiated through the fabric of Kris' sleeve. "No one expects you to do anything, and no one's feeling burdened by you," He told him. "I'm all too happy to make sure you're okay... and right now all I want from you is for you to regain your strength and to be the Adam I know again — then you can be the Adam that sings people's faces off. That's all there is to it."

He sagged against Kris a little, slumping in seemed relief and fatigue. "Thank you," he whispered. "And now..." he trailed off.

Kris looked into his eyes, prompting quietly. "And now?" he asked.

"And now—" He took a breath and braced himself, then shaking Kris' arm off, he pointedly scooted his legs over, preparing to get up. "Let's go," he said, but his voice was dull, and he sounded sad.

"The bus is here." Kris stated. "That's why I came in here. Everyone's ready."

He sighed. "I—I'm free to go," he said. "Stephanie said so — I'm ready. She got a crutch..." He looked at the floor, but pointed to where it was leaning against the wall.

"I'll help you," Kris whispered consolingly.

"I hate this—" Adam muttered, glaring at the floor tile. "I hate it. I just want to be me again." He swallowed hard. "Thank you, Kris," he said quietly, his hands clenching into irritated fists, but his smile sincere. "I appreciate it."

Kris carefully put a hand under his jaw and turned his head until he had to look at him. His eyes were unfocused, far away, and sparkling, and his skin was warm, too warm. "It's nothing, Adam. I'm happy to help," He told him firmly. "And Allison will help you, too, I'm sure. She cares a lot about you. We'll all help you out, and you'll be back to your normal, high-energy, crazy self soon anyway. I promise."

The lost, glazed look left his eyes in a flash. "Yeah..." he whispered. "Y-Yes. You're right. I'm going to be fine."

Kris sighed internally, relieved at his acceptance. "Now, let's get moving. You wearing a shirt out of this place?" he asked, teasingly.

But Adam ducked his head again, eyes sad. "I—I would, but I can't—" he gave an ashamed-sounding sigh. "I can't pull it over my head," he said. "My back's too stiff from the bandages... and sore—and I can't bend my fingers too well on t-this hand." He held up the arm that was only partially singed, which was covered in a lightweight, flesh-colored gauze strip. "Plus... I keep shaking." He sounded defeated and slightly humiliated, which made Kris' heart turn over into a knot.

But at the same time, he unleashed a big, bright smile. He was grateful for the simple, uncomplicated service he could do Adam in this instance. "That's totally understandable," He told him gently, picking up the shirt that was lying beside him on the bed. The fabric was loose and light, to keep pressure off his injuries.

Kris gestured for Adam to lift his arms, and he did so obediently, allowing him to pull the shirt over his head gently and smooth it over his back gently. He stared fixedly down at the floor, as Kris ensured that both of his arms were comfortably in the sleeves.

"This is rather embarrassing," he said finally. "T-The great Adam Lambert can't even get dressed."

"Quiet," Kris scolded him tenderly. "There's no shame in this, Adam. Don't be ridiculous and let me help."

He sighed, nodding. "Think of what the tabloids would say if they got a hold of this," he said, with a tiny laugh. "There'd be an awful l-lot of... scandalous rumors floating around."

"Yeah," Kris returned lightly. "Does that hurt?"

He shook his head. "No. Thank you."

Kris smiled and lifted the first of his shoes, moving to kneel on the floor before him. "Lift your foot," He told him.

"Kris..." Adam said slowly, smirking. "You don't n-need to put my shoes on for me too..."

"Don't be foolish," Kris told him. "It's no trouble." Adam quirked an eyebrow, so Kris carefully picked up his uninjured leg and gently stuffed it into the shoe. He didn't protest, merely suppressed a dry laugh.

He set one hand down against the bed to keep his balance as Kris made sure it was on snugly. "Kris..." he said. "You really don't have to. I can get them on."

"Can you really?" Kris' tone was noncommittal. "Oh, well, I don't mind, I'm already half-done. If it'll save you the effort and the energy, I'm happy to do it." He carefully slid his other leg into the shoe, then lifted it up and tilted it until it was on.

Adam sighed. "I give up, you win," he muttered.

"Again? I already won once," Kris said, and a real laugh burst forth from Adam's lips.

"True," He replied, grinning.

Kris, proud of himself for managing to get the shoe on without hurting Adam despite the trickier, wrapped ankle, then got his feet and offered him his hand.

He accepted it in gratitude, and Kris put his other hand under Adam's elbow, carefully pulling him to his feet and reaching a steady arm out to support him. "Lean on me, okay?" He coaxed, easing him up. "You're still shaking."

"Am I?" he murmured tiredly, and, much to Kris' surprise, he obeyed without complaining, draping his arms around him in a loose, weak hug. "I'm sorry," he said.

"No, no... it's fine," Kris assured him, reaching down to the bed and picking up his jacket, also brought to him by his mother. He rested it gently on his shoulders, and pulled it around him, trying not to apply any pressure to any of the weak areas on his friend's body. The coat was intended to hide the arm bandage from any curious eyes when they loaded onto the bus, just in case. He carefully helped Adam's arms find the sleeves. "You have been through a lot, your body's really overwhelmed... it's trying to recover, that's all."

"In other words, I'm pretty much pathetic," Adam answered.

"No," Kris said resolutely, slipping the metal padded crutch under his arm. "You are not pathetic. You're tired, and hurt."

He didn't reply, but clasped his fingers around the crutch, his slightly damp but silky hair brushing Kris' face when he leaned down. "I just wish I was... well, stronger t-than this," he finally muttered.

Kris squeezed him in a gentle hug. "It'll get better, be patient. Now come on, let's get out of here."

He sighed and Kris withdrew one arm, giving him a little space, though he still kept one arm firmly around his friend's waist. Adam wavered, unsteadily, and his body shook as he took a step. He grimaced, eyes closing.

"Adam," Kris said encouragingly, and he raised his head wearily. "You're stronger than you think. Don't be afraid to lean against me," He instructed.

He looked slightly blanched as he took a few more steps, eyes wide and sparkling with exertion. "S-Sorry..." he stammered, after he wobbled a bit and Kris nearly stumbled.

"You're fine... keep going."

His throat tightened visibly, he pressed on, and Kris winced at the shaking muscles beneath his hand. "Kris," he whispered. "I don't want you to fall."

"I won't." Kris assured him, touched that he was concerned for him in the situation when Adam himself was clearly the one to worry about. "I won't." He repeated.

Adam looked at him, and there was a hint of doubt there. "Just be careful," he whispered. He reached up and squeezed Kris' shoulder with one hand. "I appreciate it—I truly do. I am so—so grateful that you're helping—that you've done all this..."

Kris cast his eyes over his friend's tired face. It had been restored mostly of color, though still paled slightly, and there were tiny fleck-marks of angry blue and red, and the skin around one of his eyes was slightly puffy from Sarver. He sighed. "I love you, Adam," he said softly.

"I know." He nodded, smiling. "Now," he whispered. "C-can I grab your arm?" he asked after a moment, his voice unsure. "So that I can— can keep... steady as w-we go down the hall?"

Kris felt like asking him if he'd rather be wheeled out in a wheelchair, but he knew what the answer would be, so he merely nodded vigorously. "Go ahead."

* * *

He was heavy.

Kris could tell he was struggling to support his own weight, and his fingers were digging deep into the arm he was clenching as he walked.

Every few limps, he would stumble a bit, and he would quickly grasp onto Kris to catch himself. He was still trembling, and Kris knew that if he hadn't been helping him, he'd have probably lost his balance completely at least once by now. The expression on his face was grim but determined, his jaw locked, mouth tight, and brow wrinkled in extreme concentration.

Kris' heart turned over with concern and sympathy every time Adam's grip tightened, or his steps faltered a bit. Even the sight of Adam, usually walking with an identifiable, confident swagger, now reduced to leaning heavily on a crutch because of his ankle and on Kris because of weakness, was difficult to comprehend.

It hurt to see him bereft of his normal grace and brightness, wincing in pain every once in a while, and breaths unsteady and fluttering before they were even halfway to the outside where the new tour bus waited, the rest of the boys plus Allison waiting inside. It was like harsh, brutal clarity to Kris.

Adam sighed after catching himself from another near-misstep, and then stopped suddenly. He sagged into Kris and laid his warm forehead upon his shoulder. "Sorry," he said, voice muffled and ragged by his breath.

"Whatever for?" Kris asked, taking the opportunity to catch his own breath, patiently standing there with his friend.

"I'm too heavy for you," He said, looking sideways at him, eyes sad. "You're already tired."

It was the truth, Kris' muscles were burning from the effort of supporting his taller, broader form, but that didn't matter to him in the least.

"No, you're fine. Not too heavy at all, Adam." Kris assured him quietly.

He lifted his head a bit and murmured softly, "Thank you, really... but you don't have to lie, I am." His voice was a mixture of teasing affection, bitter weariness, and apologetic shame. "I-I can tell," he said, and his mouth stretched into a crooked grin.

His perceptiveness always was quite uncanny, Kris thought. With a tiny sigh, he nodded. "You are heavy, Adam, but not too heavy for me to help you. Okay? If I was even shorter, and tinier compared to you... well, I'd still help."

He laughed noiselessly. "You mean shorter and tinier than you already are, oh pocket-size friend of mine?"

Kris sent him a look, but was secretly pleased that Adam was again teasing him like old times. "I'm just fun sized." He shifted an arm to better support Adam's back. "Now stop feeling bad... keep going, you're doing fine."

He straightened, easing some of his weight onto the crutch. "Okay... but if you feel like you're going to... topple over, say something, Kris," he commanded, only half-joking.

It seemed like Adam had to channel every ounce of strength he had merely to stand upright and take each step. When they reached the exit door to the private parking area, he rested his head on Kris' shoulder for a moment again and closed his eyes, letting Kris edge the door open.

Once it slid open, his eyes flickered with determination once more, and he pulled himself up in Kris' arms, trying not to show how much effort it took, but exhaustion was shining on his cheeks and Kris was glad they'd almost made it to the bus.

To his disdain, Danny was waiting outside, leaning against the curving, shiny metal of the bus' exterior, and he tensed and straightened when they approached. Adam stiffened noticeably at the sight of him, and Kris laid a hand in between his shoulder blades gently, reassuring.

"Finally," Gokey said awkwardly when they neared, jerking his head toward the door. "We're all ready, just waiting on you two..."

Adam's eyes flashed, and Kris gave him a pointed look that said, Let me handle this, ignore him.

Too tired to argue, he nodded gently.

"We came as soon as we could," Kris responded as mildly as he could manage to, understanding that they were indeed later than they had originally intended to be, but thinking it was unfair to make Adam feel any guilt about it. "Sorry."

Danny shot a strange glance at Adam, who set his jaw and stared icily back, but the other man didn't speak again. Kris was distantly relieved.

"Well, shall we get going?" He tried in a fake-pleasant tone. "We do not want to delay any longer than we have already... let's go."

"Of course," Gokey replied tightly, though he didn't move to enter the bus. Adam shot an unreadable look to Kris, then loosened his grasp on his shirt and took a step.

He wavered a bit as he moved toward the folding door to the vehicle, but before Kris could catch him; Danny had leaned forward and taken hold of Adam's arm above his elbow.

Adam flinched and glared, and his arm whipped out surprisingly fast considering his current state, knocking Danny's hand away and then clasping a sizable chunk of the fabric from his shirt front.

"Touch me again... and I'll tear your arm off," he growled; his voice dangerous, trembling with fury. His eyes were twinkling with a tangled mixture of fear, pain, and rage.

"Adam," Kris said, and his voice was sterner than he'd wanted. Adam flinched again at the hardness of it, and Kris softened, stepping forward. "Easy, he's not trying to hurt you..."

Adam's fingers released Gokey's shirt, and he drew back and weakly shoved him away, shaking violently now. His eyes, now desperate, swung to stare at Kris, and he winced heavily, looking ready to collapse in a tired heap.

Kris moved to his side, steadying him before he thought his friend's knees would buckle.

"Keep him... a-away from me," Adam whispered, his voice torn and pleading.

"He was trying to help you," Kris had to point out gently. "Don't worry, he may be too much of a pussy to apologize, but he won't try anything... trust me, he can't, he'll lose everything." His own disgust bled slightly into Kris' voice and Danny ducked his head a bit.

"Come on, Adam." Kris eased.

He nodded, his eyes fixed on the ground. "Okay," he said, still sounding quite angry. "Sorry."

"It is all right. Stop apologizing." You're right not to trust that asshole.

Danny's eyes raked slowly over Adam as they moved to pass him, tinges of scorn there. "You don't scare me. I mean... look at you."

Adam took a tiny breath. "You'd better hope.... that I f-fucking scare you, Gokey" His eyes narrowed. "After all... I'm dangerous. I put your life in danger, right? Nearly k-killed everyone on that bus, including you." His voice shook, and Kris made a face.

Danny's eyes narrowed. "Watch it, you—"

"Stop," Kris said cut him off. Adam's eyes were dull and sad, and he couldn't bear to stare in them for too long, missing the light he'd just managed to put there. "Just stop it. Enough, Danny. Leave him alone —might I remind you that you're already on thin ice as it is? We don't have time for this shit anyway."

Gokey's mouth snapped shut as the bus door slid open with a whoosh in front of them, but he spoke up again. "I'm not just letting this go..." He told them strangely. "I know I'm onto something." Kris felt Adam tense, and he steadied him with one hand, his other one balling into a frustrated fist. Damn it, Danny, stop it... shut your fucking mouth, all right?

"Adam," He said suddenly, "Go on inside, Allie will help you."

"No," came the instant reply. "I'm not leaving you out here, Kris. Come on—"

"Just go."

"No, I can't—" he said again. "Kris..."

Kris was staring at Gokey with a frustrated look and a sudden hot wave of emotions surging in his eyes. "Adam," he growled warningly.

"Kris..." he replied, wavering on his feet, his face noticeably whiter now. His eyes were hollow as they bored into Kris knowingly. "He's not worth it."

Danny's eyes flashed in anger, and Kris came closer to him, unafraid. He was taller too, with a square-jawed, tense air of strength about him. He smiled wickedly, and the oily expression made Kris' rage boil. "Allen," he said. "You'd best back away from me."

Kris felt the uncontrollable desire to punch him in the face. It was not in his character, but he wanted to feel his knuckles crack against his jawbone, wipe that unthreatened, cocky look from his face. "Leave Adam alone," he warned, "I'm serious, Gokey. We're not doing this the rest of the tour. Stop it now."

Suddenly a hand was on his shoulder, gentle. Adam was beside him, smiling softly. "Kris," he said, grateful for Kris' statements, but shaking his head. He had a look of impossible calm in his eyes now, and he told his friend steadily, "I'll handle this."

Kris stared in shock as he limped forward, more square-shouldered than he'd been in a long time and tall, something like pride easing into his careful stride toward Danny. He wanted to lunge forward and stop him, it was reckless, but, bewildered and baffled, and he was frozen to the spot.

Adam raised his head and glared at Danny, hard and unaffected. "Gokey." he said, his voice imposing. "I hope you understand who you're dealing with here."

"Adam Lambert, the star of the season—poster boy for embracing homosexuality—" His mocking words trailed off into nothingness as Adam continued to stare relentlessly at him, eyes dark.

"Wrong," Adam stated harshly. "Adam Lambert, the star of the season- who might be gay but wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of you at any given moment... and would do so with ease." His fingers tightened slightly around his crutch, and Danny, slack-jawed, stared at him. "I didn't cause that accident. I was up in the front with Christian, yes... but I didn't cause it. And it happened, Kris saved me, and you chose to act stupidly on baseless accusations. You've already endangered your future in the music industry through your endless fucktardery.... don't give me reason to mess up your face, too. You don't have to be my friend, just leave me alone, and we'll be fine until the tour ends."

Gokey was speechless, and Adam tilted his head in dark amusement.

"Do we understand each other?" Adam asked softly, voice slightly weaker.

Danny gave an offended look. "Fuck you—" he said in an angry, deep voice. "You dare threaten me, Lambert—?"

"I do dare," Adam said. His voice turned deadly again. "Gokey, do you have a problem with my presence on the bus? Because if you do, you might as well go home. No one else seems to share your sentiments. And I'm not willing to put up with your shit for the rest of the time we're together, quite honestly."

He sputtered and shook his head, overcome. "No, I... - how... you little..." After a small resigned look, he glared hard at Adam and merely brushed past Kris, climbing onto the bus.

Adam turned, not catching Kris' bewildered stare, and began to follow Gokey, stopping at the foot of the stairs to hand Kris his crutch.

Kris followed him, making sure he didn't stumble on the steps, fake-smiling along with him as the new driver expressed her excitement at their arrival, and then made his way toward the back of the bus.

He found Adam collapsed against the wall, his legs shaking beneath him, and he barely caught him before he fell unceremoniously to the floor. "I'm sorry, Kris," he moaned as Kris sank down, trying to pull him back up. His hands grabbed huge handfuls of Kris' shirt and he attempted to rise as well.

He buried his face in Kris' shoulder, shaking, when they were standing again, Adam leaning precariously on Kris. "I shouldn't have done t-that... but he n-needed to... to hear that."

"Stop apologizing," Kris told him again, squeezing one of his hands supportively. "That was very reckless of you... but yeah, he did need that."

"I wanted to hit him again," he murmured. "I just couldn't though. I—I didn't—couldn't..."

"I know." Kris sighed, sharing the feeling. "It's all right, Adam."

"I had to t-tell him—couldn't let him think that—"

"Adam," Kris interrupted. "Shut up. It's fine, okay? Just relax. You're trembling."

He took a deep breath. "I want to go back there..." He whispered, indicating the way toward the back room, the main area with couches, where some of the other guys would probably be waiting with Allison.

Kris took his arms and pulled him up tenderly, wincing slightly his muscles ached.

He nearly fell over again. Kris tightened his hold and slipped the crutch into his grasp. "Okay, Adam... but then you should sit down," he said. "Let's go..."

He nodded blearily, and Kris saw that the exhaustion was plain on his face now, the pain not hidden. He bolstered him as well as he could as he straightened.

He made it to the room with Kris supporting him gently. Allison squealed with delight at seeing him, but her eyes were seized with worry, and several of the others greeted them warmly when they entered. Kris led Adam toward the empty sofa and practically poured his tired body into it. "Take it easy," He instructed him, and sat beside him, feeling the bus' engines rumble beneath them as he allowed Adam to occupy the greater portion of the couch.

Adam obeyed, eyelids drooping. He lurched forward a little, wincing, as he shifted to make himself comfortable, but he settled into the cushions with a shiver, and Anoop approached quietly, tossing a light blanket over him.

His lashes were fluttering against his cheeks. Kris touched a concerned hand to his arm. "I'm tired," he whispered in explanation.

"I know," Kris replied, feeling the others' eyes as they gazed wordlessly at Adam. He was quite obviously drifting into sleep, the black waves of weariness engulfing him. "Rest, Adam. It's okay."

He cringed softly, eyes squeezing closed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Kris shot back, voice husky with emotion. He brushed his fingers against Adam's cheek--he was a little warm, and his skin was crawling with chills.

"We're all here for you, Adam." Matt spoke up suddenly, hopefully. "Let us know if we can do anything for you, we all want to help." Except Gokey, Kris thought, bitterly noting that Danny had opted against coming back to the main area with everyone else.

Adam, eyes still closed, smiled at Matt's voice and the assorted murmurs of agreement that followed, his lips curving upward on his pale face. Kris nodded his approval at Matt, who waved it off, smiling. "Always... taking care of me - I l-love you guys," Adam proclaimed tiredly, and then he felt silent as sleep claimed him.

Kris wrapped an arm around him, supportive. He looked down at his now serene face.

"What happened back there?" Allie asked quietly, without taking her eyes off of Adam. "We realized Gokey was waiting outside, but we didn't want to get involved because once we realized... well we heard your voices and didn't want to interfere and make it worse."

"Complications," Kris answered shortly.

Michael looked over at him, then back at Adam. His mouth thinned. "I don't understand..." he stated softly, and his tone was warm as he eyed Adam's limp form. "I mean, Adam and I aren't the best of friends either, but I think... I'd never - how could you hit him? How could... he's being - well, Adam doesn't need that... especially now."

Kris grinned at him, overwhelmed by gratitude. "Yes," then he shook his head. "I don't know, but... Adam kind of... well, he didn't hesitate to tell him off."

Allison smiled in admiration. "Of course he didn't."

"He—?" Anoop prompted softly.

"Yeah." Kris confirmed. "Gokey was speechless. Well, so was I."

A few laughs echoed softly through the room

"Well," Allison whispered. "I'm ready... and kind of excited, actually… and I hope Adam gets completely better soon... so we can put all of this behind us. It's time to."

Kris could not have agreed more.

* * *

Hope everyone had peaceful and relaxing holidays and happy New Year!


	10. PART 10

Adam slept in a bleary, gray haze for the entire afternoon as the bus slowly rolled along. When night struck, he found himself tossing and turning fitfully, part of him wanting to wake up and the other not. His head felt fuzzy and dizzy, and when he forced his eyes open, it was seized with pain like a touch to a still-bleeding wound. Grimacing, he pressed a palm to his warm brow, and slowly sat up.

It hurt - hurt him to move, and he hated it. He had been hurt before, hurt where it was painful to move, hell... he'd torn a abdominal muscle in WICKED and that was a bitch, but this left him reeling, and he didn't want to be vulnerable anymore. Blinking, he peered around in the darkness, discovering that he was still on the sofa in the main area of the bus, and he was alone.

No, wait, Allison was there, her small form curled into an armchair, having drifted into sleep while watching over him.

He sat up straighter, moving his legs to the side of the couch and stretching his shoulders experimentally. Dull but throbbing aches shot through his arms and back, and the hollow groan he could hear wrenched from his own lips made him cringe. He ignored the pain and lifted his arm slowly, brushing unruly, damp locks of hair out of his face where they'd stuck with sweat.

Even that much movement hurt him, and the realization of this made him want to scream, to curse wildly in a stream of sentences until he could no longer breathe. Offhand, he thought of lying back down and never getting up, sinking back into the cushions and not moving anymore.

And then, he thought suddenly and rather vehemently, that no, he couldn't do that. He was stronger, he knew it. He needed to be better. He needed to perform. And he had to. He couldn't let this take him down.

He pulled himself up, and the action caused a tiny, ragged gasp to escape his dry throat. Pain flared along the nerve endings of his shoulders, and he bit down on his already split, cracked bottom lip. He sat there for a moment, letting it simmer, then die down. But his head still pulsed with an ache far stronger than ever, as if something had exploded inside his brain.

Damn it. He thought angrily. This has got to stop. Now. He couldn't stand this: feeling helpless, weak, and pained.

He pulled up, his spine going rigid, and the fabric of the shirt he wore brushed against his bandages. He realized then that the amount of heat pouring off of him was staggering; he was absolutely drenched and overwhelmed by waves of hot, stifling air.

Was his fever finally breaking? Ignoring his pain, he tore off his shirt and jacket, although his body protested the action, since Kris had, probably aptly, helped him to put them on. He wanted to sing, to perform. And he knew wasn't ready to, hated that he wasn't ready to, not when he was still somewhat weak and shaking and still in pain.

He struggled to reach out to the crutch leaning against the sofa frame, to let it steady him, let it ease him up. His fingers closed around the cool metallic handle and the padded top fit snugly under his arm. He took a deep breath, almost smiling when he found that his lungs didn't shake or falter and he exhaled without trembling.

His surroundings came into focus. The bus was blanketed in quiet, and he sighed in relief as a cool breeze from a slightly opened window found him, gently swirling through the room and curling through Allison's bright red hair.

He stood up unsteadily, not rushing himself, but his body still ached in remonstrance. He groaned, letting his head rest in the palm of his hand for a moment. The skin of his face felt clammy and bruised, sweat dripped down his forehead, and every muscle in his body screamed with fatigue, making him feel as if he'd been run over by a steamroller.

There was a glass of water on the table nearby, within reach. With an internal sigh of appreciation and relief, he realized that Kris had probably left that there for him. He wrapped his fingers around it, letting the cold condensation on its exterior cool his shaky, feverish hands. A few moments of careful movement later, he raised it to his lips, wavering on unsteady legs and wincing at the blistering pain of his healing wounds, but standing.

He gulped the whole glass down, relishing the coolness that soothed his bone-dry throat and the way it helped ease his fever. His back was stiff, but his leg muscles felt torn and slippery, and he knew they were weak from not being used a lot recently, overwhelmed by the day's sudden activities.

Abruptly, he didn't feel like moving anymore. He was still noticeably tired, and felt irrevocably broken. Why even try?

Almost gruffly, he slid the empty glass back onto the table and pushed the doubts from his mind. He had never been one to give up, and he wasn't going to give up now.

Adam took another breath that rubbed less painfully in his throat and took a step forward, glancing curiously at Allie.

His mind flashed to "Slow Ride", to their crescendo of voices complimenting each other as they soared through each verse and culminating in fervor of beautiful noise at the conclusion of the song.

How he'd missed that. There were so many things he looked forward to getting back to, and the thoughts of them filled him with even more steely determination.

Trying not to wake her, he stumbled forward along the thick, padded carpeting beneath his now bare feet, and away from the confines of the sofa. After a few small steps, he marveled at how he was still moving and the pain was pushed back into the farthest recesses of his mind, replaced by fortitude and unbidden strength.

His desperation almost seemed to fuel his taxed, pain-filled body, and he nearly laughed as he approached the far wall, the snores of numerous other contestants now audible to him from the bunks. He was slightly panting for breath, and the air was thick and hot to him, trickling in and out, but it was strong and unmistakably easier than ever for his lungs to process.

It didn't surprise him when he nearly fell though, stumbling and flinging out his free arm to seek support on the long wall. He'd felt it coming but pushed it back until his body could heed his command no longer. Stepping carefully over to one of the stiff-backed armchairs, he prepared to prop himself up against its cushions and force himself to sit up, if only to have something else to do besides lay down horizontally and go back to sleep.

Then, his foot brushed against something rough and intruding, bumping against his uninjured ankle, and then he stumbled, landing on arms that slipped treacherously away from the wall and his crutch to catch him. He thudded gently against the sturdy softness of the chair and blackness appeared on the edges of his vision, threatening to lull him back into sleep.

Adam tore himself up and shifted, sitting up on the chair. There was a confused gasp and he shook his head to clear it, trying to kick away whatever he'd almost tripped over. An angry red wave of pain rippled through his broad shoulders and he cursed quietly.

There was someone standing over him now, cool fingers pressed tenderly against his achingly warm forehead. He flinched away at first, startled, but softened a bit when he recognized the figure in front of him, outfitted in familiar pajamas stitched with guitars and musical notes.

Fuck, he hated being so helpless in front of Allie, scaring the poor girl, but he accepted mentally that it was a wonder in its own, given his condition, that his muscles had flexed as if healthy, let alone carried his own weight across the room.

She stared worriedly at him, and he looked away.

"Allie... it's all right... I just needed some air, to... t-to get up for a second." The words, to his horror, provoked a tiny cough from his still moisture-deprived throat.

Her hand drew away at that and she snatched up the empty glass, disappearing wordlessly with a determined look on her face. He heard a faucet running briefly in the nearby kitchenette, and then she was back, smiling encouragingly at him.

Adam fought to pull himself into a suitable sitting position again, and immediately pain washed over him in crushing lashes. He locked the muscles of his throat quickly, refusing to let so much as a whimper escape in her presence, though he shook slightly and cringed beneath the storm of torment that flowed through him.

"Always so stubborn," Came her gentle but amused response. "Here, drink this. I bet you're fever's finally going down. That's good; Kris was worried this whole move had been too much of a shock to your system... what did you fall over?"

One hand scrabbled in the night air and found the offending object. He blinked in recognition, and then chuckled weakly after taking a long sip of the water. "I... its Kris' guitar case," he whispered.

"Oh." She giggled. "Don't tell him, he'll feel really bad." She tossed her head in laughter, bouncy curls clinging to her shoulders. She perched herself on the arm of his chair, grinning. "You look a little better... of course I can't tell in this lighting too well... but you're not as pale."

His fingers closed around hers. "I feel a little better, even than I did this morning." Impatience flooded him. "But I want to be completely better. I miss singing. I miss... well, dancing... even walking normally."

Were those tears pricking hotly at the corners of his eyes? He blinked them back, frustrated with himself, tired of Kris and Allie and everyone having to worry about and care for him. His condition was holding him back, holding all of them back from having the time of their lives, touring the country and living their dreams.

The thought was dark and bitter, and one of the tears escaped, trickling down his cheek, scoring a shiny, wet line through the constellations of freckles on his face.

His fumbling fingers squeezed Allie's hand gently. He raised his other arm, the bandaged one, to wrap it around her, and he wanted tell her he was okay... but he could not find the words to do so.

She stared at him inquisitively, eyes bright with emotion. This wasn't him, the Adam he or she knew, he was weak and in pain but he knew he could still make it through this, with everyone's help. Some impossible power held these reassuring thoughts inside and prevented speech from audibly reiterating them, but Allison seemed to understand. She smiled again, a small, but happy smile.

Pulling him into a gentle hug, she sighed and hummed against his ear. He lurched forward and hugged her back, spitting a quiet curse of pain half into his cheek as he did so, and she giggled almost sadly. "Language, Adam," Came her teasing voice, but then her amusement faded. "You okay?"

Cold, clawlike fingers of pain tore at his back, but he nodded softly into her hair, and she pulled back, reassured.

He willed the powers of the world to make him not be lying to her, to stop his pain, to immobilize his weakness, to make him that Adam again. He shifted his weight until he was seated more comfortably and let a contented grin dazzle his face.

"Good," She replied finally, satisfaction evident in her tone. "Can I get you anything else? More water? Something to eat?"

"You can get some sleep," His battered lips turned into a crooked smirk. His hand cradled hers for one final moment, and then he dropped it and pointed, to the more accommodating chair she'd been sprawled upon. "You look tired, sweetie." His words resonated with something vaguely familiar, something he recognized as his own, and he felt a twinge of hope overpower the darkness of the pain that had slowly been eating away at the facade of his grin. Yes, Adam thought fervently, I really am fine. I'm going to be okay.

Allison yawned, nodding. "I am," she admitted, and sank into the chair.

He stayed up, thoughts whirling through him at a dizzying pace until sunlight glittered on the horizon outside the tinted bus windows.

* * *

Kris woke with a start and for a moment had no idea where he was. His flailing hand impacted against the smooth hardwood surface of a bed frame, and he slowly realized that he was lying on a bunk, wrapped in its one thin blanket, a bus thrumming with movement under him.

Katy, was his first thought, aching softly for a brief second. That faded and then: Adam, followed by anxious worry.

All the trauma and emotional turmoil he had experienced had been easing slowly off his shoulders gradually as he slept, and he felt slightly lighter now. Kris sat up slowly and rested his shoulders against the wall behind him, tiredly scrubbing his hands over his unshaven cheeks.

There was hope glimmering in the outer reaches of his brain, gently cascading over the echoes and memories of the accident, which had been tearing painful wounds in his heart.

Oh, Adam. How was it that such a freak crash had to happen in conjunction with a fight they'd had? I wish I could take it back, Adam, he thought again, aching. If I could I would in an instant. But there was nothing he could do now on that front - and he found himself still overcome with concern despite all the noticeable brightening in his life.

For a moment he thought Adam was in his rightful place in the bunk above his, but his presence was unmistakable, and the lack of it shot clarity through with Kris' sleep-muddled brain. He stood, stretching a bit before moving toward the door. You'd better be feeling okay today, Adam, he thought. You have to get better. You're so close.

He dressed himself quietly, lost in thoughts about the previous day. He could almost feel the slow burn of Adam's frustration as images of their departure from the hospital came back to him in a rush.

Then, his mind wandered to the impossibly tired and weak-looking Adam he'd left asleep on the sofa the evening before, lines around his eyes and mouth etched in his lingering pain. No, he thought. Stop worrying. He's fine. He'll be okay, you'll see... when you go out there.

He could aptly recognize how badly this experience had shaken him now that it was slowly coming to a close: how almost losing Adam as a friend had crushed him, how seeing him so lifeless and agonized had torn him apart.

But Adam had made it out, and he was going to be okay. Kris clung to that knowledge as he took a deep breath and slid out of the room, straightening his wrinkled shirt as he started toward the main area. He had no desire to see Michael that morning, so he maneuvered silently around the other doors, cautious about not waking or disturbing anyone who could still be asleep.

There were muffled voices up ahead, and Kris quickened his paces, nearly running the last few steps and wrenching open the door to find a pale, shaky Adam who looked as if he shouldn't even have been awake, let alone standing, arguing with Sarver.

Adam swung toward him on his crutch as he entered. "Kris," he said, his voice tired in greeting and laced with weariness and relief, "Michael here says the producers told him I shouldn't even get to come along to watch you guys at rehearsals." His eyes were huge and dark in his bruised face and his voice trembled with a nervous energy just shy of anger.

"I don't know," Kris said. He crossed to him and laid his hands on his arms, supporting him gently. "How are you feeling?" He asked cautiously.

"I'm fine." He sounded frustrated, impatient. "Let me come. I'll be joining you all on stage again soon enough and I'm okay... I shouldn't get left out of just observing because of his." He indicated his condition with a swish of his bandaged arm. "And I certainly don't want to just sit on this fucking bus all day."

Kris swallowed hard, and then fought to calm his anxiety. At the moment, Adam's face was pleading and sad, and he squeezed his arms comfortingly as he looked him up and down, critically assessing him.

His hair was tousled and he looked ill and terribly young, his face still slightly blanched and accented by his wide blue eyes, eyes that searched Kris' almost frantically as if desperate for his acceptance. There were flushed spots of pink over his cheekbones, and he trembled silently a bit as he leaned heavily on his crutch. He wasn't overly warm anymore, but his weary smile had hints of pain in it.

"You should get to come, Adam," Kris told him finally, projecting as much confidence and encouragement into his voice as he could. "Come anyway. The producers are wrong to try to exclude him." He said to Sarver. "He's fine. He needs this."

Michael crinkled his brow and shook his head. "Okay, Allen. Whatever. I don't think it's your call... or his, for that matter, to make. They're the ones in charge here."

Adam practically seethed with anger at the news that they were attempting to temporarily kick him to the curb when Sarver shuffled away.

"I've rehearsed my set countless times in the past, in fact... I probably don't need to practice it; I could do it half-asleep if I really had to." Kris pointed out suddenly; calling to Michael's retreating back. "I'll sit with Adam and watch. Make sure he's okay, if that'll please them. Tell them that."

Adam's eyes bored into him. "Y-you'd do that for me?" he mumbled, and his eyes fell down to gaze at the carpet. "You'll stay with me?"

Kris blinked at the heartrending, genuine emotion he saw sparkling in Adam's face. "I will stay with you. Always," he promised.

Adam nodded, and swallowed, and suddenly he was that glam-rock superstar everyone knew again, face confident, eyes shining. "Well, I know I'll be fine if you babysit me," he said with that teasing grin Kris recognized so well. "Whatever happens."

His hands came up to squeeze Kris' arms in return; his thanks could be read easily in his eyes, though he did not voice the gratitude. Kris sent him a smile in return, and then Adam pulled back, noticeably less agitated. His ankle was paining him, Kris thought, noticing how he winced a bit when he shifted his weight.

"You do look better today. But don't push it. You still need to sit," Kris told him. "We're not leaving for rehearsals yet. We're stopping for breakfast. I'll get you some food. What will pushing yourself into exhaustion accomplish?"

He took a deep breath. "A-Actually, I need to move," he said. "I'm sick of sitting, of resting... I swear all my muscles are going to atrophy if I don't stretch them a bit—" He broke off, sighing. "What I really need is to be completely better. But my body won't let me do that."

Out of the corner of his eye, Kris saw Matt and Danny enter the main area and seat themselves wordlessly upon chairs. Kris nearly groaned aloud, for his attempted avoidance of Gokey had failed.

"Maybe you could take a small walk up to the front, say hello to our new driver?" Kris suggested. "There's a nice-looking seat up there with big cushions and pillows, I'm sure she'd let you sit with her..."

Gokey's eyes flashed. "There is no way in hell I'm letting him touch or get near the front hatch of this bus," he growled out. "I don't care if our driver's a woman... I don't trust him anywhere near the driving area anyway. We wouldn't want to risk something happening again."

Adam flushed, his face flooding with color and infuriation. "Shut the fuck up, Gokey! I did nothing, abso-fucking-lutely nothing, to deserve your pissy ass comments or your shitty treatment of me! So can it, alright? I like guys, okay? And the part of your DNA that makes you a heartless bastard makes that impossible for you to accept... I get that. But honestly, it'd be a whole lot better if you shut your mouth until the tour ends and then go back to Wisconsin and never show your face in the same room as me again! ... I'm sure you wouldn't want to anyway!" he spat back.

"Easy." The rebuke was gentle and delivered in a way that was intended for both Danny and Adam. Kris sent wordless reassurance after it to his friend, and then turned to Gokey. "Adam's right," He told him. "I suggest you listen to him. He needs to exercise a bit, get his body prepared for our shows... shows that I'm sure sold many tickets on the promise of his presence, so unless you wish to voice any respect for Adam's talent or remorse for your idiotic behavior, I'd say it'd be best for you to keep your mouth shut and let Adam go up to the front of the bus if he so chooses."

Sullen, Danny set his jaw. "I don't trust you, Adam," he ground out. "And Kris - I think you overestimate things. They'd get over it, I mean; I doubt there'd be riots or anything Adam failed to show up at a show or two..."

"Wanna bet?" Adam demanded, as if offended. He leaned forward. "I hate bragging, but I did make it to the finale, right? Someone had to have been out there voting for me. There'd be a lot of flak thrown at the producers if the show went on and I wasn't there."

Kris touched his shoulder, urging restraint. "Adam is the best singer to ever perform on American Idol," He pointed out, voice suddenly low and cold, almost with hidden malice. "It is as simple as that. Never call his talent into question."

Adam's eyes were the more shocked out of the two pairs of awestruck eyes that Kris found staring at him. His friend ducked his head, almost blushing, before a big, sloppy grin spread across his face. He seemed to stand taller then despite his weakness, his shoulders straightening. "Thank you, Kris."

It was simple statement of something Kris, and many of the others, had always taken to be fact, and Kris smiled at Adam's modest acceptance of the compliment. As if he didn't know he was born to sing...

Danny scoffed then, obvious disbelief written on his face. "So everyone says," he replied. "It's all hype. We've seen a lot of supposedly superstar quality singers on the show get buried in expectations for something incredible and fail to deliver. Sorry, Adam... but it's all talk. I don't think you're all that, like everyone else on the planet seems to."

"Once I'm thoroughly capable of doing so, and of course, after I've kicked your ass several times..." Adam said slowly, "I'd be glad to show you how fucking wrong you are about me, Gokey."

Irritated, Danny got up and left, headed back toward the area he bunked in. Kris didn't miss the triumphant grin on Adam's face, nor the shocked looks on Matt's and Michael's, but for the moment he was most concerned with helping Adam stumble forward through the bus, open the front hatch and sink down into the passenger's seat without injuring himself further.

Adam seemed stronger, more solid, more there, more himself, as he settled into the chair, chuckling, and his eyes roamed over Kris' face. He propped his crutch against the side of the seat and fluffed a pillow. "Thanks for backing me up there, Kris," he said, a lopsided smile decorating his face. "This whole Sarver thing is getting out of hand. We might be in for a bumpy ride."

Kris nodded and laughed, and they both greeted the driver, Ellie. Adam's eyes slipped closed contentedly then, and his breathing evened out and deepened with slow rhythm. The tight lines of pain around his face smoothed, the tension of his muscles relaxing, and then his fingers were clenching Kris' hand. He passed his other hand over his eyes for a fleeting moment, but then he smiled again. Twenty minutes of restful silence later, the bus shuddered to a stop outside a breakfast buffet restaurant.

"What do you want?" Kris asked his friend, fully intending to get out and get Adam's meal for him, then bring it back to the bus.

Adam swore violently, laughing, then looked at Kris. There was something shining in his eyes that Kris couldn't remember seeing in awhile and he could feel his breath hitch in surprise. "You know what? I really want go inside, I hate to make you go in and get food for me."

"But you don't want someone to recognize us and have pictures of you with a crutch explode all over the internet, right?" Kris guessed.

To his astonishment, Adam shrugged. "People are going to find out eventually. I mean we're not doing a show tonight for a reason. I hate being... well, being d-dishonest."

"You're not being dishonest." Kris assured him. "You're laying low, you're hurt, and you need some time to recover. We all do."

Adam giggled strangely, and Kris couldn't help but smile as his friend stood up again, only wavering a little. "Got nothing to hi-ide..." He sang softly, "And never no secrets..."

Kris wanted to hug him, right then and there, just merely because he was singing, he was smiling, and he was Adam. And then, Kris knew he couldn't bear to make him stay on the bus, even if he had wanted to urge him to stay behind, still worried.

"You know, people might think it's a little suspicious if all of us go in there and you are missing anyway." He pointed out, laughing. And so, Kris helped him down the stairs and the Idols began to pour out into the parking lot, each surveying the tiny diner in hunger and excitement.

"What the hell are you doing, Lambert?" Anoop teased, chuckling. "You going to hobble in there?"

"Shut up!" Adam scolded playfully, smirking. Danny brushed past him, and Kris nearly lunged forward in anger when his friend swayed a little, unsteady as he leaned on his crutch, but Adam ignored him and started toward the door of the restaurant.

His sudden surge of annoyance, mingled with pain and focused concentration, reached Kris, and he scooted forward to walk at his side, ready to support him if need be.

"There's a table," Allison pointed out, when the rest of the girls joined them and they entered the building. "By the window." A few of the patrons looked up from their plates curiously at the group as they moved toward the back corner.

"Kris," Adam's terse voice broke into his thoughts. "Hold my crutch for s second?" He glanced over at him and grinned, and Kris accepted it so Adam could seat himself. He looked a bit limp and ragged as he collapsed onto the chair, but he was smiling widely and it looked genuine. "You know, Kris. I'd make sure I don't make a habit of making you wait on me hand and foot, if I were you." Kris knew that smile, and so he shook his head, chuckling even as the waitress took their orders.

A few minutes into their wait for their food, the inevitable happened.

The outside world crackled to life, and muffled voices sounded outside the windows as several people with cameras began taking photos. "Ugh, I can see it now..." Lil grimaced into her mug of coffee. "We'll be the headline tomorrow, since this is our first time out in public since the accident."

"They certainly don't waste time, do they?" Michael muttered.

Adam waved politely to one of the people with a sideways swat of his hand. "Well, they know who we are," he said in an odd, far-away voice.

"They were worried about all of us, you know. The fans. We were all over the news, and people had no idea if we were all okay." Megan pointed out. "I can't blame them for being relieved and excited about seeing us all out together. But it might make them wonder why we aren't doing shows until later this month..."

Adam shrugged as he thoughtfully stirred his tea. "Probably," he said in reply.

"This is going to suck... now our entire tour schedule is pushed back and we'll be away from home, from our families and friends longer." Danny complained loudly, and his eyes were on Adam.

Adam merely looked back, undaunted. "Yeah. But if they didn't come visit during our hospital stay... they could probably come see us before we start performing again." He put his chin in his hand and leaned tiredly against the table, musing, "I know Drake said he wanted to. Maybe I'll tell him to come up and hang out with me... in the front of the bus."

Gokey choked and sputtered at Adam's audacity at that comment, his coughs echoing into his cup, and Kris could see Adam's wicked grin.

"I think it's a good idea," Kris said, and Adam laughed at the look on Danny's face as some of the others obliviously agreed.

"Maybe I'll invite Brad too," he added mischievously.

"You're fucking disgusting." Gokey mumbled just loud enough for Adam to hear, and the table fell silent, Adam's teasing grin disappearing and the laughter dying in Kris' throat.

The waitress brought their plates. There was a moment of awkward silence when she departed, and several of the table's occupants began to eat.

"Actually Danny, I think you're pretty fucking disgusting." Kris finally said, sitting up tall and ignoring the deadly glare that came to life on the bigger, burlier man's face.

Adam laughed heartily then, swinging an arm around Kris and giving Danny a meaningful look. "I love you, Kris Allen," he said fiercely, and he pressed a soft kiss to Kris' temple jokingly.

"Oh—" Danny started, frowning and looking down at his food as thought it were suddenly anything but appetizing. He wordlessly pressed a napkin to his mouth, and Kris and Adam burst into laughter, which made Gokey's frown deepen.

"Aw fuck," Adam said breathlessly, pressing a hand to his chest, "Stop it... ah, it still hurts to laugh really... hard..."

Danny's fist clenched around his utensils and his knuckles whitened as he burst out, "What the hell did you just do?"

"What?" Adam answered cheekily, after swallowing a bite of food. Allison and several of the others chuckled. "I do love Kris. Why not tell him about it? Why not express my feelings?"

Gokey looked at his plate, still frowning. "I..."

"Oh, don't... get your panties in a bunch, Danny." Adam rolled his eyes, still a bit breathless. "I love Kristopher in the 'right and godly way', of course. Besides, that was probably the most platonic kiss I've ever given, Kris likes girls, you know. I couldn't make a successful move on him... even if I wanted to." He waggled his eyebrows, and Kris giggled into his waffle, choking a little.

"I don't see how that matters. It was still inappropriate of you," Gokey said acerbically, but Adam just shook his head as if amused, as he took another bite of his own food.

"I for one… appreciated it." Kris put in, smirking. "Didn't expect it, but I'm quite flattered by it. Hope the photogs outside didn't snap a picture, though..."

Adam chuckled again, then winced and fake-glared at Kris for making him laugh. "Shit, Kris and I are about to be on the cover of The National Enquirer," he said then, his eyes sparkling. "Get me several copies that I can frame and hang above Gokey's bed on the bus." He grinned, and the table erupted into laughter.

Kris realized with a pang how much he'd missed laughing with all of them, and of course with Adam. Danny's face was red, and his mouth was curved into a grumpy, tight line.

Breakfast was actually rather pleasant. Exiting the restaurant was tricky, with the small crowd of photographers swarming toward them, but Kris and Allison flanked Adam on each side, protectively making sure he wasn't jostled around in the chaos.

Questions were fired through the air. Once they'd eluded all of the questions and most of the photos, they were on the road again, headed for the next stop's arena location for rehearsals. Kris let Adam sit in the front hatch with Ellie, and he stayed to keep him company, leaned against the wall, strumming his guitar thoughtfully.

Random chords and notes spilled from his fingers as he watched Adam's face, serene in thought. He noted the still-present lines of pain stitched into his skin and the angry bruises around his eye, slightly visible through the fading makeup from that morning. Adam yawned, then cringed a little and shifted his weight, perching his injured ankle high on a pile of pillows.

"Why bother coming?" He asked abruptly, a cynical weariness in his voice. "I kind of understand the point the producers were making earlier now... it is dumb for me to tag along if I'm not even p-performing... practicing anything."

"I want you to," Kris said simply. "I don't want you to stay on this bus by yourself unless of course you want to go to sleep, which is okay. I want you to share in this experience still, Adam. You're the runner-up, probably should have won the damn thing... you deserve to be up on stage as much as I do, so if you can't sing just yet, you should at least be there, you know? There's nothing I want more than for you to be able to sing for your fans."

"I feel like I'm sort of being a let-down to you... to everyone," Adam admitted softly, voice small. His face was suddenly a tight mask of pain and sadness. "I know that's stupid. Why blame myself for an accident? I know," he bit out. "But I just..."

Kris smiled encouragingly. "Adam," he replied. He needed to cheer his friend up again, missing the laughter from breakfast, that contagious smile. "Don't be ridiculous. Stop feeling so sorry for yourself and feeling guilty. We all love and care about you, and that's that. And feeling as if you're a disappointment because you got hurt in an accidental crash? Don't even think about it, man. It's not your fault." He chuckled then, making Adam's head snap curiously in his direction. "I mean, we all know you love attention, Adam... but seriously."

"What?" Adam asked; eyes dull and tired, but lips forming a tiny grin.

"Getting hurt in a dramatic crash? There are other ways to be the center of attention, you know," Kris replied, laughing.

Adam looked at him oddly, one eyebrow slanted upward. "No, I can't possibly imagine. I'm the fucking Queen of Attention. I founded the Center of Attention, even. There's no way I'd ever be able to come up with several brilliantly controversial or stand-out ways to get attention. Especially... on the spot."

"Ring of Fire?" Kris said plaintively, and then froze.

Adam began to laugh, leaning back into the seat and clutching at the sides of his chest, eyes squeezed shut in mirth. "Ring of Fire... oh fuck... that's got a whole new connotation now..."

Kris chuckled idly. "Ironic. Very ironic."

Adam grinned sadly. "Freaky double meanings or not, I can't wait." His eyes had turned lost and hollow as he looked out the window, face longing.

"But how are you going dance in platform boots again on a just-healed, weakened ankle?" Allison asked suddenly from behind them.

Adam turned to gaze at her, a goofy smile adorning his face. "I've danced in those boots after having more than one drink too many," He answered playfully. "If I can do it drunk and be okay, I wouldn't worry—"

"Okay," She giggled. "Just be careful."

"He will," Kris replied, beaming at the thought of Adam dancing again, not to mention drunk and in platform glitter boots.

Adam sighed suddenly. "Fuck this," he said. "I wish we could do a show now, tonight... I bet it'd be the best therapy. Everyone would feel so much better."

Allison looked to be in agreement, but she just shook her head. "It's a nice thought," she said. "But quite honestly, as excited as I am... I'm glad we get a little time to rest."

Adam looked relieved that she wasn't disappointed by their lull of activity, and Kris sent him a quick I-told-you-so look.

"There's no reason for you to push yourself—" Allie seemed to understand Adam's qualms, and she approached him, smiling. "Really. Not now, and especially not when we DO start performing again."

"You'll need someone to watch your back, and I'm highly qualified for the job," Kris said, stopping the guitar music and resting the guitar against the chair next to Adam's crutch.

"You're hired," Was all Adam said.

"It's not like the show could go on without you." Allison added, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You are the show, Adam. You are the one who brings it all, owns the stage... makes sure we're all performing at our best. It's all up to you."

"No pressure, though? Right?" Adam laughed, and then softened. "I'm glad you think of it that way." He sighed, illuminating the hints of fatigue that still lingered and the tiny shards of pain that still stabbed at him. "Thank you, both of you... you're amazing," he added quickly. "I love you."

His eyes were somewhat haunted by his past torment but they gleamed with that undeniable spark that was so Adam it nearly made Kris cry out in joy.

"We love you too," He responded, and Allie nodded, squeezing Adam's shoulder.

Kris wordlessly approached and leaned against the chair as well, his hand on Adam's other shoulder in his own momentary gesture of reassurance.

Once he'd fallen asleep, Allison yawned quietly. "We'll wake him up when we get there... or he'll be mad at us." And she tiptoed softly out of the front area, grinning.

Kris followed several moments later.


	11. EPILOGUE

Sorry about the wait! Here's the end of the story. Thanks for reading!

--------

**EPILOGUE**

Adam shifted uneasily as he stared out across the sea of reporters and press. The curtain he waited behind brushed his forehead as he leaned forward a bit on his crutch, peering curiously into the crowd. After all of the drama, and after he'd noticeably been healing- the producers hurried him into a press conference so that everyone would quit panicking and speculating. They hadn't anticipated the amount of uproar and fright over the pictures from breakfast a week before, showing Adam, crutch in hand, weak and pale-looking, and supported on each side as he limped along by Allison and Kris.

Adam was nearly convinced that he really was better; that he had returned to his former self, but a check-up by a doctor and pure logic defied that belief. The pain remained, weaker, but festering within him, and while the pain remained, while even the slightest weakness remained, he was not himself. Frustration still flooded him at the thought.

He turned away from the hushed swarm when one of the Idol PR managers stepped out to introduce him, dismissing someone from coming to his aid as he prepared to emerge from behind the curtain. Swallowing when he heard his name, he pushed himself forward, bracing himself for a frenzy.

Cameras immediately began flashing madly at his approach, and Adam stepped cautiously to the small podium, then managed a convincing smile to the spectators, easing the sudden hysterical and panicked shouts. He tapped the mic carefully and grinned when it sparked to life with amplified thudding sounds.

Immediately, he was self-conscious of the popping cameras. The Idol makeup crew had done their best to cover any remaining inky, jagged marks on his still-paled face, but he knew it wasn't completely effective. He'd glanced in the mirror before coming out, and seen for himself the stark differences in his features despite all efforts to disguise them.

He beamed cheerfully nonetheless, and the promise of reassurances and answers held the anxious reporters in his grasp. "Good evening," he greeted plainly, and drew his lips back in a gentle smile. "I'll be taking your questions now." He continued, scanning the faces in the jumbled mess of people. The screen behind him, projecting his image larger for those in the back to see, flickered on.

"Mr. Lambert, I'm sure you know about the endless speculations about your condition of health..." The first reporter started, staring up at Adam determinedly. "Can we get an personal assurance that you are medically okay, and perhaps an explanation for the crutch?"

Adam forced another smile, "Adam... please, it's Adam. And yes, I can promise you that I've been well-cared for and looked after, and I'm going to be just fine. The crutch is only for a minor ankle injury, so that I can stay on my feet when needed."

"Adam, there were rumors immediately following the accident that Kris Allen was placed under 24-hour care at the hospital nearest the crash site, brought to fruition by footage of his wife entering the facility." Another person stated, reading from a notebook. "But Mr. Allen appears to be in good shape, which calls these initial reports into question, can you go into any detail about the condition of the others involved in the crash?"

Adam's grin faded. "Unfortunately we lost our driver, Christian Calderone in the accident. He was a very good man, and we are devastated by his passing. But to answer your question - Kris is fine, everyone else is fine now. There were some minor scrapes and bumps, but we were really very lucky to have almost everyone walk out of it." He paused, trying fitfully to hide any tiny signs of weakness, the little fissures in his struggling façade. He was still tired, felt ready to shatter, keeping his body upright only with the crutch supporting him and the effort of his trembling but determined will.

His still lightly bandaged shoulders, hidden within his jacket, slumped a bit in his fatigue and his brow was slightly crinkled. He'd been gradually re-introducing himself to physical activity, actually doing miniature warm- up routines with the others and ending them gasping and tired and shaking. His wounds had been getting better, of course, but only enough to tug him from the blistering, continuous sharpness of pain to a more subdued but persistent ache. His eyes, smudged with eyeliner, were a little bleary, and under the makeup, one was still bruised and hollow looking where Danny had punched him.

He could see his reflection in the lens of the nearest camera and had to clamp down on a disgusted grimace. The pink skin of his cheeks was still undercut with a pale, sickly gray that turned it a bit sallow in the spotlights. The raised welt from Gokey on one cheekbone, hard to conceal with cosmetics, stood out red and swollen, and other tiny flecks of red and blue were bright and angry on his face.

Adam raised his head again, awaiting the next question. "Adam, has the cause of the bus accident been confirmed yet?"

His eyes, dull and expressionless, turned at the inquiry, and he took a breath. "An investigation was conducted. There was a mechanical issue involving the brakes. That's all I can say for sure."

"Are you willing to elaborate on what happened to warrant 24-hour care for one of you?" A woman asked, looking expectant. A knowing glint in her eyes told Adam she knew that one person needing the care had been him.

"It was me." Adam mumbled in confirmation, feeling the urge to collapse overwhelm him. His words were slurred and thick, catching a bit on his still-bruised lips, and he steadied himself with one hand on the podium. "I was nearest the f-front of the bus... with Christian."

"Were you hurt badly? Is that why tour dates have been pushed back?" Another female reporter pressed gently, her voice soothing and even reasonable. But Adam winced away from her words before he could stop himself, his eyes showing the hit plainly even though he managed to keep his face stoic and unaffected. His body tensed and he shifted uncomfortably, the bandages brushing lightly again his pink, raw shoulders. Cameras flashed.

"It was bad enough to cause genuine concern," Adam croaked quietly. "Besides the torn tendons in my ankle, I had some issues with smoke inhalation and... other injuries. But those have since been remedied." He let that sink in a moment before stepping closer to the mic and adding softly, "And the dates weren't pushed back just because of me... it's been rough and we all needed rest and to have some time to get back on track."

"Adam, there's a rumor that Kris Allen and his wife have had recent troubles in their marriage, and that somehow you were involved. Is this true?"

Something cold seized in Adam's chest and he froze; horrified. How did THAT rumor get out?

After a few moments of stunned silence, he realized he needed to respond. "I'd rather not comment on Kris and Katy," He rasped, wincing at his voice. He tried not to pant for breath and forced his head up further. "Their personal relationship is not my business, nor is it the business of this press conference... " he broke off. His chest was heaving as he fought to take in air, and he tried to smile shakily.

The murmurs in the crowd increased a bit in volume and reporters scribbled into their notepads. Adam felt fevered and confused, like he was losing control over his pain, his emotions, and the walls he'd built as shields for the night came crumbling down. Dull aching and feelings came spilling out from between the cracks, razor-sharp and messy. He closed his eyes and clenched his fingers around the podium, knuckles going white.

"That's not all we've heard..." One sleazy-looking man said. "One internet rumor says that Mr. Allen lashed out at you, maybe even struck you. Can you comment on that?"

Adam's eyes, liquid dark and wild, stared startled and frantic into the crowd, as if he were caught in a trap. The reporters' fingers curled excitedly around their pens, preparing to record the answer, and the fluttering of his heart intensified.

He paled a bit. "What?"

"Is it true that Kris Allen punched you?" He prompted eagerly. "What does you and Mr. Allen's tension have to do with his possible marital problems?"

Adam stared at this man, his mouth trembling as he strained against falling into a tired, sad heap. His muscles sagged. "Kris and I aren't fighting..." He replied slowly. "We're fine, getting along fine. And as I said before, this isn't the subject of this—"

The man shrugged and jotted a few notes. Adam took a heaving breath, relieved and aching. His shoulders were shaking visibly now, and he tried to steady them.

"Adam..." Another reporter tentatively began. "I'm sure you don't require me to expand upon the word that Danny Gokey will not pursue a recording contract with 19E or RCA once this tour is complete. This is a statement of fact, released recently by the American Idol producers. We know this is true, but can you comment on why this is? Is this Gokey's choice or the company's? And why, might I ask, is this sudden announcement coinciding with the accident?"

Adam's head snapped back up, and he vaguely remembered how much he hated press conferences, wished he'd not cracked and agreed to do this under reminder that his fans were anxious to hear from him personally, concerned for him. "It's—n-not my place to comment on this..." he muttered. His voice seemed to be broken.

"You mean to say you don't know why Gokey is being dropped by RCA completely?" The reporter continued, a greedy grin now decorating his face, and Adam realized he wanted to pry the answer from his lips.

Adam shook his head slightly and replied, "I'm not saying anything more. I'm sure you'll get the information you want about this issue in time."

"To get back on topic," A reporter interjected, perhaps noticing the change in Adam's demeanor. "You have a hurt ankle, Adam, how will you be performing?"

Adam laughed then, a thin, somewhat nervous sound that crackled into the mic. "You insult me," he said, chuckling. "Did you really imagine I wouldn't be able to? I'll be fine; my ankle's not that bad. Don't underestimate me. I wish I could dance right now." He smiled wholly.

"I wonder, how was it you were so lucky to escape with 'small injuries' and a hurt ankle and your driver didn't survive?" One asked contemplatively as he eyed Adam curiously. "I understand if you don't wish to recall in great detail what happened, but how were you able to get out?"

"Kris," Adam whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut, turned his face away. "Kris saved me." His breath hitched, and he gave a watery smile. "He pulled me out—" The pain and emotion was cascading over him and he could do little to stop it. He silently cursed the producers for asking him to do this.

This revelation stunned the crowd though, and they hurried to document it.

"Are you feeling okay now?" One reporter then asked, looking him over.

Adam put a hand to the visible mark on his cheek. "I-I'm strong." His voice cracked and he winced. "I'm fine." His eyelids lifted, and his eyes flashed with a determined fire. "And I'll be back on the road soon enough."

That was the final question. Adam stalked past the managers and producers, getting into the car and having his escort take him straight back to the hotel the Idols were camped out in until the next show. Frustrated, he ignored their calls, his phone switched off and dead in his pocket.

When he reached the building, he struggled against his tiredness and pain to get in and get to his and Kris' room as quickly as he could. In the corridor though, he was forced to halt when he found someone waiting for him.

A mixture of anger, despair and exasperation tingled on his every nerve when Danny approached him, eyes dark and cold. He stood tall, trying to intimidate. His posture was stiff and he shook a bit, emotion thick and rolling from him.

"What the fuck was that, Lambert? We were just watching your little press show... the question about me? Your lack of answer WAS their answer! You should see the way the talk shows are twisting your words already! I'm done for!"

"Would you rather I told them you were an absolute asshole to me and not only threatened me, but punched me in the face... while I was still in intensive care?" Adam seethed, angered that Danny was blocking the whole hallway, and feeling a little vulnerable.

Danny slammed an arm into him, and he groaned as he was shoved bodily backward against the wall. Gokey smiled darkly and jerked a hand in Adam's hair painfully, pulling his head up, and tightened his other hand just under his chin, forcing him to look into his fury-filled eyes. Adam's crutch clattered to the ground.

"Don't you dare use another smart ass comment on me!" Danny growled. "You ruined me, you stupid fag!" Dark energy rippled through his face and he pressed his hands into Adam threateningly, pressing his body against the cold, stone wall.

Pain rippled through him, playing over his muscles and making him twitch and gasp slightly, writhing against Danny, his fist narrowly missing hitting him square in the jaw. This only served to infuriate the man further.

"Get the fuck away from me!" Adam snapped through his teeth. "I did nothing... you brought this on yourself, dumbass... and now you're making it worse. You're lucky I didn't crucify you at that podium tonight."

Danny's breath caught in a gasp, and his eyes widened as he pulled back, glaring. "You did, Lambert! Why didn't you just make some shit up to explain it? I already have to leave the company because of you, and now the media is over-hyping this and I won't get a recording contract anywhere with negative press!"

"Over-hyping?" Adam breathed, gasping. He winced and glared up at Danny. "You attacked me. You deserve to reap the punishment... for your stupidity, especially... since it was unprovoked. And now, you're on the verge of doing it again, and you'll dig yourself a deeper hole like the dumbass you are... fuck you, Danny Gokey. I don't need this shit... just get the fuck away from me!"

Gokey lowered his eyes, and let Adam's head drop. He shoved him again though, and Adam sank to the ground slowly, trying to slink away so he couldn't tower above him.

"Just know this, Lambert... I may have just destroyed my life... but I did it knowing the truth, about your disgusting nature, your perverse actions and Christian's... involvement in them... I did it knowing about them. I know what's right. And it's certainly not you; Adam... you're lucky I didn't do worse."

"GOKEY!!!" Came a surprisingly strong shout and with a startled_ "Oof!",_ Danny was pinned to the wall, held there by Anoop and Matt.

Kris was kneeling beside Adam, eyes big and moist with worry. "Adam...? Fuck man; here... let me help... you okay?"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Danny???!!" Anoop cried and Matt shook his head.

"Did he hit you, Adam? Come on, man... you're just asking to get kicked out of the rest of the tour too. Lay off him, all right?"

Danny looked at the two of them, haughty and proud. "I don't give a shit if I get kicked out; I was ruined already because of that sick fuck!" He turned to Adam, who was now sitting up, leaned heavily against the wall.

He became distantly aware of a blurry figure moving away from him and toward Gokey. Kris lunged, his much smaller fist balling up in Danny's shirt just below the collar. "You listen here." He growled. "The only sick fuck here is you, Gokey. Don't you even dare talk about Adam that way. I personally cannot wait for you to get the fuck out of here, and never show your face in my presence again."

Danny's brows beetled in anger and he wrenched himself away from Kris, shouting, "Fuck you too, Allen! Fuck you!"

Anoop and Matt frowned in deep anger and started to drag Gokey away, ranting to him as they moved slowly down the corridor.

"Adam...?" Then Kris was pulling him up. "Oh my God, what the fuck is his problem? I knew he was a dumbass, but seriously... are you all right?"

Adam nodded thickly, shaking his head to re-orient himself.

"Don't worry, only a few more weeks of dealing with him." Kris said, examining him closely.

Adam laughed noiselessly as he shakily stood, waving off Kris' concern. "All I have to say is..." He broke off, grinning, and with a tiny gulp, he cleared his throat and softly sang, "Haaaaaaallleeelujah!"

Kris smiled and with a supportive arm draped across his friend's shoulders, helped him to their room.

---------

_A week and a half later…_

Kris took a deep breath and wiped his forehead quickly, steadying his feet mid-routine, and struggling to bury the impulse to glance worriedly over to Adam, on the other side of the stage. His friend was, at this point in the group rehearsal, on the other side of the line of people and looking would do nothing but distract him when he needed to stay focused, but that didn't change how much he needed to be certain he was faring well, for this was the first time he'd attempted to dance without the crutch, ankle wrapped in a light Ace bandage within his boot.

He focused on his footwork as the music picked up in tempo. _Come on, Allen,_ he told himself firmly. _Adam can take care of himself. You know that. Get a grip on yourself and do what everyone's counting on you to do._ He pushed the worried thoughts from his mind with an effort and concentrated on staying on beat with each step, slightly swaying his body along with the notes. He tried to block out everyone else, merely noting the blur of bodies moving at the same time as him in the same directions.

He snuck in a glance anyway, trying not to let it trip him up, but unwilling to fight the urge to look. At the other end of the group, Adam gritted his teeth and pivoted his body on his weak foot, once, twice, three times, and then swayed his hips in a wide arc as he moved to dance beside Allison. Kris could tell he was intently focused on what he was doing, determined to do it properly. The routine was tricky enough already and he still wasn't entirely accustomed to moving cautiously on his newly healed ankle and with his still-tired muscles. He did a few impromptu movements and Allison invented a few to coincide with his. Adam smiled and peeled off again, moving lithely to the side.

Kris grinned at the sight. Adam would be all right. He had to be. He'd been through so much, and was looking so much better. He internally chastised himself, he was worrying about nothing, right? Being stupid.

But—he could see... and understand, and feel him. He could, ironically, read the theater performer's thoughts and emotions rather easily- and there, on the edges of his presence, that bright smile and those shining eyes, just waiting, his weariness and slight pain were simmering quietly.

No. Adam was fine. Kris rolled his shoulders and moved to the side, falling into step as Anoop and Megan skipped forward, and then weaved out and in again to end up beside Allie and diagonally aligned with Adam.

He was doing well, anyway. Dancing never seemed to be difficult for Adam, and the moves came to him almost like second nature. Kris smiled hesitantly when Adam cast him an encouraging look in-between steps.

The song sped up a bit, and Adam spun again, popping his chest a bit and flailing one arm upward, as the lights moved downward, spot-lighting the people on stage. He moved downstage slightly, and Kris followed with a quick burst of movement and felt a rush of satisfaction as the lights flickered in their wake and Adam's skilled feet raked across the stage, making it seem almost as though his friend had never been injured at all.

Kris grinned as he carried out the next part of the routine, tapping out the beats with a foot and nodding his head. He was readying himself for another pivot when a tiny exhale from Adam caught his attention. His companion raised a tired hand, waving it almost nonchalantly to call for a short break and desperately gasping for breath. The music crackled to a stop and the Idols all froze and collapsed into sitting positions, gulping eagerly from water bottles.

Kris heard Adam's breathy voice beside him as he reached for their waters, and everything inside him froze into sudden stillness.

"Kris," came his whisper, the gentle and exhausted overlay of the tone rendered by the strenuous activity obscuring the usual warmth. "Kris, you're... d-doing great." A small chuckle, and a slight wince. "Ah... I missed this. I really... did. But fuck, I feel like... I've been kicked by a mule."

Hazily, Kris felt himself reach out with one hand and touch Adam's shoulder, now un-bandaged and only slightly scarred under his clingy shirt, and he squeezed it tenderly in wordless reassurance. A ghost of a smile appeared on Adam's face, making Kris swallow hard and forcing him to tear his eyes away from the visible marks still marring his friend's face, bereft of makeup.

Adam caught him looking, and shook his head a little, tired breaths practically scraping from his lungs. Kris couldn't help but feel yet another pang of concern for him. It was nearly impossible to discern anything about just how much pain he was really in from the look on his face, but it seemed like he was unwilling to give up anyway, even if it were too much for his body to handle. He appeared slightly limp as he leaned back onto his arms, but he tensed again when Kris stared too long. After a moment, and a sip of water, he spoke.

"Adam," he said. "You're doing awesome. You look great." He paused, and Adam swallowed a thirsty gulp of his own water and smiled. "But remember not to push yourself or anything. I want you to feel well at the real show, you know? The producers are hoping for tomorrow night; and I think you'll be ready.

His face softened as Adam looked at him, eyes scanning his. "Just be careful," he added softly. "I don't want you to be in pain - take care of yourself, rest when you need to... I'll never forgive you if you collapse from exhaustion, and I mean it."

Adam bit his lip, seemingly holding in a laugh at his motherly instructions, and Kris was about to reiterate how just how serious he was, but was distracted into renewed worry as Adam reached up and massaged one shoulder gently, eyes closed.

Kris stared, feeling helpless. His throat felt thick, and it suddenly hurt to swallow. "I know you'll be all right," he finished, assuring not only Adam but himself. "It's just that... I love you, Adam. I need you to be all right, to perform with me. Don't you dare let me down."

Adam grinned then and leisurely stretched an arm around his friend's shoulder. As Adam embraced him in a tiny, one-armed hug, Kris patted Adam's chest supportively and beamed up at him. "I'll make you proud, Krissy," Adam replied steadily, and the band began to play the tune again.

The others around them shuffled to their feet, stowing away their water bottles and groaning. "Just take it easy." Kris repeated, pulling away from Adam.

The taller man reached out and touched the fingers of one trembling hand to Kris' arm, barely brushing his sleeve. "Kris," he said seriously, his voice a little hoarse. "I'm fine." He swallowed hard, the muscles in his jaw bunching. "You hear me? I'm all right."

Kris nodded and the music went into full swing as the Idols stepped back into position and started to dance again.

* * *

Adam pressed forward through the routine, ignoring the groan building in his throat as his exhausted body ached in protest. Despite his lingering fatigue, it felt so good to be dancing, to be readying himself to really perform again, and that overpowered all else. The routine was fun and bouncy, and he was enjoying himself despite the fact that his body was definitely reacting to the fact that this was the most activity it had carried out in a long time.

He swept an arm toward Megan and twirled her around, grinning and pivoting away from her to the other side of the stage, beside Matt. After a few bars, he then followed the sequence to stand between Danny and Lil, bobbing his head as he moved.

The group formed two long lines that weaved in and out of each other as they danced, and Adam grinned as the movements were executed perfectly, in-time and in-sync with everyone.

Another volley of energy pulled from somewhere within led him into another half-spin, and Sarver, who had never been quite excellent at dancing, stumbled a bit and brushed against him, throwing him off and catching him by surprise. He nearly tripped over his wandering foot, and the bigger man gave him an awkward and apologetic look. Adam flailed his arms out to steady his wavering body, and Gokey, intently focused on his footwork, collided with him.

The latter shuddered at the contact, as if unable to bear touching him, and Adam's slightly weaker body was thrown slightly to the side by a surprised shove. Luckily, the direction he swayed was toward Kris, who rushed forward, arms outstretched.

The music stopped abruptly. Adam's hand swept upward as he grasped at Kris for a handhold, but even though he managed to wrap his fingers around a chunk of the fabric of his friend's tee-shirt, his off-balance legs buckled and he bumped into him, nearly toppling the smaller man.

Pain sparked through him significantly, and his cringing groan was perfectly timed with Kris' grunt of exertion as he steadied himself after catching the heavier man. A dull ache exploded behind Adam's eyes and up his ankle and along half-healed burn wounds, the pain thick and liquid. He clenched his other hand around Kris' wrist, recklessly pulling himself upward and shaking his head to clear his vision.

Everyone came back into focus and he realized they were all moving toward him, concerned voices ringing through the near- empty stage area. Adam, with Kris' help, pulled himself all the way up and smiled half-heartedly as Kris sent a glare that could melt steel to Danny.

"I'm okay," he muttered, catching Michael's guilty look and trying to grin fully.

"That was my fault... I fell out of step and almost tripped him." Sarver mumbled, looking at the ground in shame. "Ended up sort of pushing him into Danny. Sorry, man."

Adam fired off a healthy grin and shrugged as Kris stared at him worriedly. "Don't worry about it." He suppressed the brief flare of pain it had left scissoring through him and glanced around at everyone, waving them off. "Really, I'm fine. Doesn't matter. Let's just start where we left off."

Without another word, he moved back into position in his signified spot on stage and everyone followed suit as the music picked back up once the director and band were sure everything was truly okay. Michael did better this time, still shuffling a bit from foot to foot, but doing so on-beat.

Adam found himself re-immersed in the routine, and he ignored the way Danny kept as much distance between them as he could. He kept stepping, spinning, and smiling, falling back into step with little effort.

He didn't want to be angry with Gokey, but the man kept throwing anxious glances of partial fear, partial anger... and was that jealousy?... over his shoulder. Adam merely smiled - he was definitely out-shining Danny as far as the dance moves went, in fact, even doing better than most of the others despite his injuries, and the words of the song were flowing back to him as if he'd never stopped performing them.

Kris, who had said he thought Adam was the best singer to ever perform on American Idol, was beaming at him as he too danced, and the lines shifted until he was by his side, their energy rolling off in waves and powering each other as they moved toward the finish of the song.

Any frustration Adam had felt was replaced by the warm glow of pride and recognition that lit within his heart. He pressed forward through the big climax of the song, kicking out his leg and bellowing out a high note, thrilled by the chills of adrenaline that rippled through him.

As the final chorus wore down and they moved into the last sequence, the most complicated but visually exciting of the performance, Adam panted for breath and tried to push back the tiny flickers of pain he still felt from his almost-tumble.

The thought of performing the actual show the next night actually let loose a small flutter of anxiety in his stomach, and he looked down, realizing he didn't know how much longer he could keep this up.

But Kris, still dancing at his side, was depending on him, moving with him, feeding off of his vigor and grace, and sending him the biggest, most triumphant grin Adam had ever seen.

Well, he thought stubbornly, it'll just have to be long enough.

And he finished out the rehearsal, cheeks pink from the endeavor, but splitting with a mirroring grin. "Nice job, Glambert." Kris panted, laughing and he threw an arm around Adam. "Not bad, I'm very impressed."

"All right," Adam replied. "Bring it on."

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Thanks again for reading. Let me know what you thought!


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